Falling Beyond Redemption
by Aleeab4u
Summary: A plan to keep Edward & Bella apart ends in unthinkable violence leaving Bella & Charlie battling for their lives and Edward for his soul. When the fallout threatens to destroy not only them but the Pack as well, an unlikely Shaman may be their only hope.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer****: Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight, including the characters in this story. **

**A/N This fic takes place after Bella and Edward's engagement, in between the ending of Eclipse and the beginning of Breaking Dawn. However here, Jacob does not run away but remains in Forks, still struggling to accept that he's lost Bella. **

**This story will be told from 3 different POV's, - Charlie's, Bella's, and Edward's. **

_**Warning,**_** - Rated M for a reason including lemons, and graphic violence. ****I will post warnings before any chapter that needs it, please pay attention!**** If you find either of those things disturbing this is not the story for you. Also Jacob Black will be portrayed ooc in certain chapters. If you are a hard core Jacob fan, again, this may not be the story for you. You've been warned. This story will not contain rape, but there will be scenes of sexual coercion and violence that more sensitive readers may find upsetting.**

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Chapter 1 -

The Best Laid Plans

. . . . . .

**Charlie's POV**

The house is quiet when I get home. For once, I'm grateful that Bella isn't in the kitchen. Usually she'd be in here by now, starting dinner. I spot her through the window, lying outside on a blanket in the backyard, trying to soak up some of that elusive Forks sunlight. I can't imagine she's having a heck of a lot of luck, seeing as how every few minutes it disappears behind an ever increasing bank of clouds moving in from the North. I've never completely understood the whole sunbathing thing, but I guess that's just me and the fact that I've lived in Forks most of my life. Still, she looks adorable, and I can't help but smile, remembering her as a little girl. She always did love the sun.

The smile doesn't last, though, because the truth is, she's hardly a little girl anymore. The engagement ring on her finger proves that.

Yeah, that damn engagement ring.

I slam the last of the groceries away, and toss the steaks on the counter with more force than necessary. Ever since her and Edward told me they were getting married this summer, I've been trying, unsuccessfully, to wrap my head around the whole idea. It's not as if I don't have a reason to be concerned - after all, she is only eighteen, and her fiancé isn't exactly my idea of Mr. Right. Still, I've been trying. Trying to accept Edward, tying to get over the whole nightmare of having to watch my little girl suffer through months of hell after he left her in the woods, alone, abandoned…

I need a beer. Thinking about that time isn't going to help anyone, so I shake the memory out of my head and rummage through the cupboards for a bowl large enough to marinate these T-Bones. Of course I can't find one, and I grit my teeth, glancing back out at Bella. I've never been very domestic, and ever since she's moved in with me I've become even less so. She's taken over the kitchen, and though she's only made a few small, subtle changes, it's enough to guarantee that I probably won't find a bowl without her help.

Thankfully, she's already on her way in. I watch as she heaves one last disapproving scowl at the darkening sky before gathering up her blanket and book. Squaring my shoulders, I lean against the counter and prepare myself for her wrath. When she finds out what I'm planning for this evening, she isn't going to be pleased. But damn it all to hell, I am her father, and I have to try, one last time, to derail this train she's on.

"Oh, hey, Dad. I didn't hear you come home."

"Hi, Bells. Yeah, I uh, just came in."

"Aren't you a little early? I haven't even started dinner yet, sorry. The sun was just too tempting to pass up."

She smiles, and I see that little girl she used to be in my mind again. I have to swallow past the lump in my throat before I can answer. The ponytail, the shorts, and the small blade of grass stuck to her knee, don't help me at all in picturing her as a grown, married woman.

"Yeah, it was quiet today so I called it quits early." I glance out the window, feeling ridiculously anxious. "Looks like that sun has made its last appearance, at least for today."

She sighs and purses her lips in a small pout. "Oh, well, it was nice while it lasted."

"You must miss it, the sun I mean, after Phoenix." Christ, I'm stalling like a five year old who has to admit to stealing cookies out of the cookie jar.

"Not so much, really. I've gotten used to it I guess." She smiles. I can see she's in a good mood, and it doesn't take much to know why. Edward's been gone for the last few days on some hiking trip with his family but he's due home sometime tonight, and she's got that look about her. The one that tells me she can hardly wait to see him. The one that tells me she won't really relax or even breathe right until he's here. The one that tells me this whole stupid plan I've schemed up for tonight has about as much of a chance at being successful, as me winning the damn lottery.

"What do you want for dinner?" She moves farther into the kitchen and spots the steaks on the counter. "Oh, steak." She wrinkles her nose slightly, but gamely begins unwrapping them anyway. She's never been a big meat eater.

"Uh, Dad, you've got way too much meat here for just us. Why don't you pass me the plastic wrap, and I'll put some of this away."

"Actually, Bells, it isn't just us. I uh, invited someone for dinner."

"Oh." She looks surprised and rightfully so. I'm not exactly Mr. Social. A sudden smile breaks out on her face, one that looks way too hopeful for my tastes. "Did you invite Sue Clearwater, Dad? Because that's really great if you did. I can even, you know, vacate the premises, it's not a problem. Edward's going to be home tonight anyway, so we'll just go hang out at his place with Alice."

I can feel my face grow red, and I snort loudly in mock irritation. I should have known my hanging around the Clearwater place lately wouldn't go unnoticed, but Bella is reading that all wrong. Not that Sue isn't a great woman... Yeah, I really need to stay on track here. Just hearing Bella say Edwards name in that adoring way she does is enough to strengthen my nerves.

"I invited Jacob, Bella." And just like that, her smile falls away, and the light goes out of her eyes to be replaced by the same sadness I see every time his name comes up.

"Oh, Dad, I really wish you didn't do that." She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose in a move I know she picked up from Edward. The gesture annoys me for some reason, probably because it reminds me of the way _he_ does it every time my mind starts wondering down a certain path. A certain path that included several very creative ways of getting him out of my house, and out of Bella's life. It's almost as though he hears me, and he's striving for patience or something. He really can be a very unnerving young man sometimes.

"Look, Bells, I know how you feel, and I know you and him had it out about all these feelings he has, but I ran into him today, and well, he just looked like hell."

She visibly cringes at my words, making me feel like I should be wearing a sign that says, 'world's worst father.' I have to remind myself why I'm doing this in order to continue.

"Dad…"

"C'mon, honey, it's just dinner, and who knows, you said it yourself once that you missed him, and how you wished things could be different. Maybe this will help mend fences between you two." She shakes her head sadly, but I can tell that the idea doesn't completely appall her.

"Dad, you just don't understand. Some things can't be fixed; he'll never accept Edward, and I can't be what he wants me to be."

I study her carefully. This is the most she's said about the situation between her and Jake, and I can't help but wonder what she means. "What do you mean, 'you can't be what he wants you to be?'"

She shakes her head and turns away, rummaging through a cupboard, and easily snagging the bowl I was looking for and couldn't find. "Never mind, it doesn't matter, just…" She makes a very frustrated, very female sound in the back of her throat, and she instantly reminds me of her mother. The pain is old but still carries a sting, and the irritation at the reminder of Renee bothers me enough that I quit trying to cajole her into this dinner.

"Well, fine. If you don't want to tell me then don't, but I've already extended the invitation, and it's too late to take it back. Jake is coming, and that's that. Besides, with Billy out of town visiting his sister, it's kind of my responsibility to look out for him. I can at least make sure he eats a good meal."

She looks up from marinating the steaks and scowls, looking like she's ready to fight.

"Jacob's a big boy, Dad. He can take care of himself."

Trying to avoid an ugly scene that may just have her storming out and having my plans go up in smoke, I try and joke my way into her good graces. "Yeah, you want to believe he's a big boy. Have you seen the size of him? I swear to God he's grown another two or three inches since the last time I saw him, and that was just a few weeks ago."

Her expression doesn't change.

"You do realize that Edward is coming home tonight, right? He and Jacob do not get along."

I can see the thoughts spinning in her mind, and I know it won't be long before she comes to the conclusion that I'm up to no good. I speak quickly, trying to head her off at the pass. "You said Edward isn't going to be home until after 8 o'clock. Jake will be long gone by then. Besides, Edwards a reasonable guy, perfectly capable of behaving, and so is Jake for that matter."

She looks at me like I've lost my mind, or like she knows something I don't. She looks away before I can really read her. Sighing, she turns back to the steak and shakes her head.

"What time is he coming? I hope it's not too soon. I'd really like to grab a shower before he gets here."

She still sounds snarky, but she's obviously giving in, and I quickly offer to finish the marinating so she can grab her shower. The less we talk about this, the less chance she'll head for the hills, or the Cullen house.

I wait until she leaves the kitchen and heads upstairs before I pull her cell phone out of my pocket. I'm not real big on technology, but it's pretty damn apparent this has to be top-of-the-line, and very cutting edge. It has more buttons than I can find any rhyme or reason for.

A few weeks back, I overheard Edward explaining to Bella how to work the text messaging feature, though, and that's the only thing I need with the damn thing now. I really didn't plan on messing with her phone, but it was beeping at me when I first walked in the door today. I initially grabbed it just to shut it off. But of course, the second I picked it up and saw there was a new message, from Edward no less, my curiosity got the better of me. I hoped he was sending her a message to let her know what time he planned on being home. That kind of information could be very useful in regards to my current plans, and so, even knowing that I had no right to, and that I was crossing some serious lines, I looked.

Sure enough, he was texting her with that very information, and I learned he isn't going to be home at 8:00 o'clock. He's planning on being early, an hour early to be exact. This means he'll probably show up before Jake leaves, which could really work in my benefit. If I believed in karma or fate, I might think this was a sign in my favour. Not that I want a fight, at least not one between Edward and Jacob. No, what I want is for Bella to have some alone time with Jacob. What I want is an opportunity for him to convince her that she's with the wrong guy. I'm not a fool, I understand very well that this scenario is unlikely, but Edward's text and plan to be home earlier, provides me with another possibility.

Edward is a cool cucumber, but he can be possessive as hell and very protective, the latter of which is his only redeeming quality. If he comes home and finds Jacob here with Bella, and the two of them hopefully rebuilding their friendship, or more? Well it's bound to cause tension between him and her, and I'll settle for even that at this point. Tension could delay things like weddings. Tension could give my strong-willed daughter time to come to her senses. In order for any of this to work though, Bella can't get this text. I thumb through the menu, find the delete button, and hit it without remorse.

Call me an ass, or be kind and just call me overprotective. Either way, I'm not ready to roll over and let things go the way they're trying to go. I'm not sure I shouldn't just mind my own business. I'm not sure that anything I'm doing right now is right. I'm only sure of one thing, and that one thing is enough to make me risk just about anything. Because the truth of the matter is this, when I picture Bella with Jacob, I can see their future. I can see them getting married, buying a nice, cute little house somewhere close to here. I can see Christmas dinners with Billy and me, and I can see Bella, pregnant, glowing, loved and healthy. I can see a future and grand-kids, and my life going on with the daughter I don't think I can stand to live without.

But no matter how hard I try, I can't see any of that happening with her and Edward, and I don't know why. All I know is the harder I try and picture her future with him, the more I see nothing, nada, zip, just a big black empty hole where my heart and life used to be. I don't understand it, but in the end, it doesn't matter what I can and can't imagine. What matters is that I've been where she is. I've made these same mistakes. Marrying too young, and to a guy who once had no compunctions about abandoning her in a way that damn near destroyed her, spells disaster to me.

I have to make sure she's not forgetting she has options, before it's too late. Jake's a damn good kid. I've watched him grow up, hell I helped raise him. Bottom line is, I trust him with Bella, and I sure as hell don't trust Edward. There is something not right about him. Something not right at all.

I'm not about to give him a second chance to destroy her. Not if I can help it.

. . . . . .


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Conversations in Frustration

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

I resist the urge to slam my bedroom door, but just barely. I'm more than mad enough do some structural damage, but I'm also wired, and nervous, and yes, even a little excited. Sighing, I sink down on my bed and rest my head in my hands. I can't believe Charlie has done this, and yet at the same time, a part of me can't really blame him. He is so absolutely clueless about the complex and insane realities of my life. My relationship - or lack thereof - with Jacob, is only the tip of the iceberg, and I most certainly can't clue him in either.

I know Charlie has found it hard to understand and forgive Edward for leaving me, but I thought with the way he seemed to have accepted our engagement, that maybe he was beginning to. I guess I was wrong. I can't blame him for that either. For all kinds of reasons, my relationship with Edward isn't something I've discussed with Charlie, and maybe that's backfiring on me now. At the very least, Edward and I both should have tried harder to spend more time with him so he could see, _truly_ see, how good and right we are together. Instead, we've done the opposite, spending most of our time away from this house and away from Charlie's gimlet eye. Maybe I've been trying to put distance between Charlie and me, knowing what the future holds. And maybe Edward's polite, respectful attitude toward Charlie has been too cool, too unfriendly...

Groaning, I get up and begin to gather my shower things, trying to sort out this mess in my head. It doesn't help that the thought of seeing Jacob is bringing up a whole lot of feelings I'd rather not relive. Both the positive and the negative. For a second, I actually consider just leaving, telling Charlie that I'm sorry, that I just can't do this. I need to make him understand that what he's hoping for isn't ever going to happen. Walking out just might be the final catalyst that makes him understand, once and for all, that Jacob is no longer a part of my life.

I turn on the shower and strip, not even bothering to wait for the temperature to regulate before stepping in. I shiver as the cool water spills over my skin and inevitably think of Edward. Even as the water begins to warm, he stays in my mind. I've missed him these last few days so much it's been unbearable, and now, when I'm finally close to being in his arms again, I can't even relax and just be happy.

Damn it, why can't Charlie just accept the way things are? I was just starting to get over the whole Jacob fiasco, and though I can never truly forgive myself for what I've put him through, I have made peace with my decisions. I know without the slightest bit of doubt who I am supposed to be with, who I can't live without. I know I can spend eternity with Edward and never look back, never wonder if I made the wrong choice, but I could never do the same if I chose to be with Jacob. With him I would always wonder, always be looking over my shoulder for a pair of topaz eyes looking back at me. I would never be complete. I would go to my grave searching for those eyes and needing something I didn't have. Edward.

That doesn't make any of this easier. Right or wrong, I have feelings for Jacob. Raw, powerful feelings laced with the razor sharp edges of my guilty conscience. And what will Edward think when he finds out about this little dinner my meddling Father is planning? Haven't I hurt him enough already with all these conflicted feelings for Jacob?

Back in my room, I towel dry my hair and dress quickly. A simple pair of black Capri-pants and a deep blue, cap sleeve blouse that mysteriously showed up in my closet just a few days ago. No doubt the handiwork of Edward's sister Alice, who has an unhealthy obsession with my wardrobe. Still, inspecting myself in the mirror, I can't help but grudgingly admit that her sense of style is impeccable, even if it is wasted on someone as plain as me.

Grimacing, I try to pinch a little colour into my cheeks, which look even pastier than normal despite the two hours I invested in sunbathing. Having my period isn't helping anything either, not my coloring, and certainly not my mood. I've felt sluggish and crampy all day, and now this. All I really want to do tonight is lie on my bed and listen to music until Edward gets back. After that, all I want to do is continue to lie somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's with him. Wrapped up in his cool arms, his body the perfect antidote to this muggy summer heat, listening to the sound of his voice while he rubs my back.

All of that is shot to hell now though. Even after Jacob leaves and I'm finally with Edward, the tension from Jacobs visit will probably ruin what would otherwise be my idea of perfection. Groaning, I give the blouse one final tug. The fact that Edward loves seeing me dressed in blue makes me feel slightly better, as though I'm wearing a talisman that all but screams who I really belong with.

In the kitchen, Charlie has marinated the steaks and even dragged out the ingredients for salads. I take over grudgingly, though I feel a bit bad that he keeps looking at me with a slightly nervous expression. I know he can't help the way he feels, and my anger lessens a little. Still, I feel compelled to let him know that _I know_ what he's up to. I don't want to fight, but in less than a few months I will be married to Edward, and after that... Well, I can't really bear the idea of after yet. I only know it will be hard enough without all this extra emotional baggage. I need him to understand, and I need things to be okay between us before I take the next step. I can never live with myself if I don't get his blessing in whatever way he can give it.

"It isn't going to work, Dad. You know that, right?"

He doesn't look up from dicing peppers, but I see his hand hesitate for just a fraction of a second.

"What's not going to work, Bells, this salad? Should I not be adding peppers?"

I ignore his inane question and wait until he puts down the knife before laying my hand over his. The ring on my finger catches the last bit of fading sunlight, and small prisms of colour splatter the countertop and the backs of his strong, solid fingers. A sudden surge of love seizes my throat, and I have to swallow several times before I can continue. No matter how difficult this night will be, I know, without a doubt, the love that lies beneath it all.

Tears fill my eyes as a sudden unexpected memories spin in my mind. Charlie, using the very same hand I'm touching to hold onto the back of my first two-wheel bike. Me, in braids, with skinny, band-aid covered legs, learning to ride down this very street. Pedaling hard and fast while he ran beside me and didn't ever let go. Not until he'd been certain I wouldn't fall. Even then he'd kept running, keeping pace and shouting encouragement, the only man besides Edward who'd ever earned my complete and unwavering trust.

I swallow past my emotions, hoping to somehow make him understand. "I know you still don't trust Edward. I know you've never really forgiven him for what he put me through, but you have to let it go now, okay? You might think we're too young, and a few weeks ago I probably would have agreed with you, but…"

"You guys _are_ too young, Bella. You have your whole lives ahead of you and so help me, I still just don't understand the rush."

"It's not a rush, Dad. It's just that it doesn't really matter when we do it. Now, a year from now, it's all the same because it's inevitable." I wish with all my heart in that instant that I could tell him even just one small sliver of the truth, but I can't risk…_I won't _risk him or his life to ease my conscience. If he ever found out what Edward is, what all the Cullen's are, the consequences could be catastrophic. There are very powerful forces more than willing to kill anyone who might threaten the secret of their existence.

I let go of his hand and turn back to the salad, wishing that I never brought it up. It would have been better just to endure this evening in polite small talk and silence then to risk opening a can of worms no one can stomach. It's too late though, and Charlie leans against the counter, his expression way too intense and questioning.

"Fine. It's inevitable. You and Edward are meant to be. I can accept that, Bells, but that still doesn't explain the rush. If it's inevitable, then what's the difference between two months and two years? Go to school, live a little, travel, hell, do it all with him if you have to, but just wait to make it official. You guys have so much life ahead of you. Or are you lying to me. Is there more to this then you're telling me?"

I don't like his tone. His question leans towards his whole pregnancy fears, but it's also reaching further, and for the first time, I know he's looking, _really_ looking. He can't possibly ever guess the truth, but the very fact that he's looking at things so hard is cause for major concern.

Somehow, I manage to mask my emotions and laugh lightly, hoping it doesn't sound as forced as it feels. "Dad, really, are we back to the whole thinking I might be pregnant thing? Seriously? Because I know you have to know that it isn't possible, especially this week. I mean, I know you're a man, but we do share a bathroom." Heat floods my face. I force myself to hold his gaze, hoping that the discomfort of having this conversation will be even harder on him than it is on me. If anything can get Charlie to head for the safety of his TV sports and drop this whole topic, it's a discussion of purely female matters with his daughter. My only other option will be to start talking sex, and this is bad enough.

I watch with growing unease as he unflinchingly maintains eye contact. "I believed you before, Bells, when you said you weren't pregnant. I didn't need proof then, I'm not asking for it now."

His gaze narrows and the look on his face grows a knot in my stomach bigger than my own fist. For all intents and purposes we might as well be at the precinct in a barren room with cement gray walls and a rickety metal table, chairs, and a two-way mirror. I'm not talking to my father anymore; I'm being questioned by Police Chief Swan.

"There are other reasons for rushing into a marriage." He stops, his eyes searching mine, and somehow I manage to hold them. Alice's voice is strong in my mind, reminding me that despite still being human, I am a Cullen already, and I have obligations and responsibilities to keep up pretenses. I have never felt the burden of that responsibility as strongly as I do now, and the weight of it threatens to buckle my knees.

"I need you to tell me the truth, Bella. Is Edward pressuring you into this?"

For a second the relief at such an easily answered question is so sweet and such a polar opposite of my fears, that I'm almost giddy with relief. Then he hits me with the second half of his question.

"And if he is, and you're letting him? Well then I have to ask why, because from what I know of him he's not the type to push, and you sure as hell aren't the type to be pushed. So in my book this all adds up to mean only one thing. There's a hell of a lot more going on here than meets the eye, but I'll be damned if I can figure out what!"

Turning away from the burn of his questioning glare, I sigh and shake my head as though frustrated and amused at the same time. "Okay, Police Chief Swan, you might need a vacation or something because I'm thinking your job is beginning to make you paranoid." I manage a small laugh and a rueful glance in his direction as I quickly resume washing lettuce for the salad.

"Look, Dad." I grab a towel and start drying my hands in an effort to mask the fact they've begun to shake. "I'll admit in the beginning when Edward first asked me, I thought he was a bit crazy, because like I said, I thought we were too young as well. But I meant what I said about it being inevitable, and I knew that we'd end up being married anyway. There's no reason to rush the inevitable, but there's also no reason to delay it. Right now feels like the perfect time to us. We're done high school. We're getting ready to start whole new lives, and we want to do that together. Edward already told you, Dad, he's very old fashioned. He wants to do this the right way, and so do I."

Trying once again to plaster a calm expression on my face, I look back up at him, hoping I'm pulling this off. He studies me quietly for a long, very unnerving amount of time, and then finally sighs and smiles. My muscles slowly begin to unlock as I see that he's trying to accept my words at face value.

"Yeah well, you always did know your own mind, even when you were little." He sighs again, louder this time, and goes to the fridge for a beer. "You know I only want what's best for you, right?"

The question is simple and very much something a father would ask in this situation, but I can still hear the veiled undercurrents of doubt in his mind, and I know I haven't convinced him of anything. Still, he's willing to let it go, and I think right now, that's the best I can ask for.

"Yeah, Dad, I know." I think about adding that Edward is the best thing for me, but the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway stops me. Charlie glances towards the door and his spine straightens, as though he's steeling his resolve, which he probably is.

"Well, that sounds like Jake there, so I guess I'll go fire up the grill and start those steaks." He turns to leave and then turns back, patting his shirt pocket. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot, you left this on the table in the other room. I thought you might be looking for it." He pulls out the new cell phone Edward just bought me and lays it on the table gingerly.

"Oh, is that where I left it?" I grab it and instantly check my messages, hoping to see one from Edward. He promised to send me one before they left today, but he must not have had a chance yet. I can see the battery is getting low so I shut it off and put it back on the table.

"Something wrong?"

"Oh, no, I just thought Edward would have texted me, or called, you know, just to let me know when he'd be home exactly."

"Huh. Well I'm sure he's just busy, or maybe they're out of range or something. I can't imagine there would be a whole lot of cell phone towers up in hiking country." He turns away again, and the odd tone to his voice makes me look up at his retreating back. The sound of the doorbell makes us both jump. As he heads outside to start the grill, I head for the door, squaring my shoulders and strengthening my resolve.

. . . . . .

_Maybe if Jacob hadn't picked that exact moment to push the bell I might have followed my train of thinking to a logical conclusion. Maybe I might have realized that Charlie sounded evasive and guilty, and that Edward would have never been too busy to call like he'd said he would. Maybe I might even have been on the ball enough to remember that satellite cell phones don't need tower reception, but then again, maybe not. Looking back now, I only know one thing. The second I opened that door, I started a chain of events that spiralled out of control in the worst possible ways, and no amount of maybe is going to change any of it._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Moments of Premonition

. . . . . .

**Edwards POV**

Laughing, I lean against a large Spruce tree and watch as Emmett wraps his arms around a similar tree. He's shaking it vigorously while loose limbs, needles, and even the remnants of a birds nest, pellet him from above. The young bear cub he's currently trying to provoke squalls in outrage and tries to shower Emmett with his disapproval in a different, and much more repulsive, way. Sidestepping the falling excrement effortlessly, he scowls up at the bear in reproach.

"C'mon, was that really necessary? I'm not going to hurt you, I just want you to call your Mom to come and play with me." He resumes his tree shaking efforts, keeping a close eye out for anymore falling presents.

Jasper appears at my side and shakes his head ruefully at Emmett's actions, a small glint of amusement lighting his eyes. "It's a good thing Rosalie isn't here, Emmett. You know how she hates it when you play with your food," he states with a small laugh.

Emmett grins without looking away. "Aw, I don't want to eat the little guy, I just want to see if his Mom is up for a wrestling match."

Carlisle joins us as well, looking impossibly immaculate for one who's just fed. My last meal gave me a bit of grief, and by contrast my clothing is slightly stained and rumpled, a direct result of my inattentiveness and distraction. I'm looking forward to getting home and showering. Not to mention getting home to see Bella. I glance at my phone in reflex at the thought of her, slightly surprised, and a bit unsettled, to see that she still hasn't returned my last text message.

"Everything okay, Edward?" Carlisle asks, interpreting my anxious expression easily.

Emmett gives up on his game and makes his way towards us grinning. "Never mind him, Carlisle, he's just moping cause he misses his little-itty-bitty human, don't ya, lover boy!"

He tries to reach over and roughly mess up my hair, but I catch his thought just a second before he makes his move and easily evade him. He makes another quick move, feigning right before turning left on his heel and attempting to tackle me. Again his thoughts give him away, and I twist, lashing my right foot out and sending him sprawling to the ground. His tree bound play mate begins squalling in earnest as the ground shakes from the impact.

Jasper snorts and rolls his eyes at Emmett before glancing at his watch. "I think we're all a little eager to get home, am I right? So let's go before this cub's mother does put in an appearance. I'm not really up for observing an hour long wrestling match. Besides, if this is the best you can do today, Emmett, my money's on the bear."

Carlisle laughs and shakes his head as Emmett stands, dusting himself off with a grimace. He turns a baleful glare on Jasper.

"Yeah, you think so, Jazz? What do you say I warm up a little before Mama Bear gets here then?" With that, he launches himself with inhuman speed at Jasper. A deafening crash that sounds like boulders colliding resonates through the air before they disappear from sight, rolling into the dense forest.

I groan in irritation while Carlisle chuckles indulgently. He settles on a large fallen log and crosses his ankles, indicating the space beside him with an arched brow. I join him with a sigh. Despite my impatience to be headed home, I realize the futility of trying to drag Jasper and Emmett apart. They've wrestled one too many times for it to keep their attention for very long anyway, so it's better just to wait them out, a point Carlisle understands well.

The bear cub settles into a high branch with a yawn and a long whine that clearly demonstrates its unhappiness with being left to fend for itself. I close my eyes, letting my senses unfold and drawing in the unique and varying array of smells from the forest, searching for its mother's proximity. I catch no trace of her, and Carlisle seconds my opinion with an observation of his own.

"I saw some wolves out by Fraser's Ridge about an hour ago. I imagine that cub's Mother is keeping her distance for the time being. He's old enough to be nearly weaned; she won't be so compelled to stay close at this stage in his life."

Emmett returns, looking none the worse for wear, and surveys his trapped entertainment ruefully at Carlisle's comment. "Wolves? Damn you're right, Carlisle. She's probably not within hearing range then."

Jasper emerges as well, shaking leaves and debris from his tangled hair. He's obviously gotten the worst side of the deal, but he looks more amused than defeated. I instantly catch his thoughts and his wink. He's eager to get home to Alice so he'd purposely let Emmett trounce him, knowing that a sulking and stubbornly determined Emmett could delay us indefinitely. He sits on another stump just across from us, and tugs off his boot, frowning at the torn heel. "Damn it, Emmett, you ruined my boots. Alice just bought these too."

Emmett snorts and rolls his eyes. "She'll probably thank me. It just gives her another excuse to go shopping." He settles under the tree as the cub begins to snore, and uses one of the larger needles to clean his fingernails. "So, wolves huh?" he asks Carlisle. "I'm assuming they're just your average garden variety wolf, and not our shape-shifting Quileute?"

"No, just garden-variety wolves, but a rather large pack for this area. I counted eight, and one of the females appeared to be pregnant," Carlisle answers, providing more detail than necessary. He looks at me hesitantly, his thoughts guarded. He's flashing through images of the wolves he's seen, categorizing species and their distinctive elements faster than I can follow. I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously, but he looks away, feigning interest in the landscape.

Jasper shifts his weight and begins inspecting his other boot with unnecessary attention to detail. "Speaking of wolves," he intones nonchalantly, and I catch his thoughts only seconds before he finishes his sentence. "Heard from Jacob Black lately, Edward?"

I resist the urge to glare and shrug indifferently instead, although I know Jasper's caught my emotion just as easily as I've caught his thoughts. He knows better than anyone that Jacob is a touchy subject for me. "He's been keeping a low profile since he found out Bella and I are getting married."

"I saw him at the hospital the other day," Carlisle interjects quietly. "He was bringing Billy in for his physical therapy session." He looks at me hesitantly, still guarding his thoughts. "He's completely healed after the attack from the newborns; I've never seen anything quite like it."

I grin at my father, opting for an attempt to lighten the mood which is beginning to darken with all their irresolute thoughts. "I bet you were just itching for a microscope and more blood samples, weren't you? What's the matter? Is Jacob refusing to play guinea pig?"

Jasper is watching me closely now, sensing my mood, making an effort to guard his thoughts as well and failing. I can read his grudging respect for Jacob and the way he fought, combining with something else less clearly defined. Emmett is feigning disinterest, but his clear mind indicates intense concentration on the subject matter.

Smiling briefly, Carlisle leans forward and turns to look at me. "We spoke in passing, but conversation was…awkward. I get the impression that whatever truce our former alliance created between us is over."

His mind instantly clears, and I follow the path of his memory, seeing Jacob clearly through his thoughts. He's changing, still growing, the power of his werewolf blood wreaking havoc on the human. More startling than that however, is the cold, angry tilt to his head and the distant fury barely concealed in his eyes.

I shrug, feeling a familiar twinge of guilt. "Jacob is not happy with Bella's decision. He wishes she would make... another choice." Jacob's feelings are not unknown to my family members, but the depth of those feelings might surprise them. The fact that it was my unforgivable actions that allowed a simple boyish crush to develop into something so powerful is a burden I cannot escape.

"I grew attached to Jacob in the weeks following the attack by Victoria and her brood of newborns. He's an intelligent and interesting child." Carlisle is still watching me closely, appearing to be studying my reaction to his comment with a great amount of care.

I laugh lightly, wishing to avoid being drawn into a debate concerning the personality of Jacob Black. "He wouldn't appreciate the term child, Carlisle."

He smiles. "No, I'm sure he wouldn't." The smile fades as quickly as it came, and his eyes darken, holding mine intently. "And yet a child is exactly what he is, Edward. A very dangerous, powerful being, but a child nonetheless."

_A dangerous child who's in love with Bella to the point of obsession_. Jasper's thoughts are loud, and when I look at him, he stares back, attempting to discern my emotional reaction to his silent comment.

"Yes, I'm rather aware of that, Jasper, thanks." I reply to his thought with sarcasm.

Emmett grunts and throws a pine cone at me, which I evade easily and without effort. "Stop thought talking you two, it pisses me off."

Resting his forearms against his knees, Jasper turns to Emmett unable to resist a chance to provoke. "I was just telling Edward that he'll probably get more attention from Bella tonight then you will from Rosalie. One look, or should I say whiff, of you, and she's going to be headed in the other direction."

Emmett grins. "Yeah? You want to make a bet on that, Jasper? I won't even touch the obvious by pointing out that poor Bella's going to get a whole lot of nothing as usual, and just lay odds on me and Rosalie having our headboard banging ten times harder than yours and Alice's."

Jasper grunts in disgust. "Such a gentleman you are, Emmett."

Emmett turns to me, and his smile fades. Expecting another jibe on the lack of action between Bella and I, his words throw me. "If I was you, Edward, I'd put that mongrel in his place." Leaning further back against the tree, he rolls his eyes at the surprised expression on my face. "You guys tend to forget that I might act like an idiot sometimes, but I'm not actually one." He fixes his gaze on Jasper. "Do you think just because I can't read emotions like you can that I can't see the forest for the trees? I've seen the way Jacob looks at Bella, and if I was Edward, I would have ripped his eyes out of his head and stuffed them down his throat. Hell, I've been tempted a time or two to do it myself."

"His emotions for Bella are very intense, Edward." Jasper continues to point out the obvious, and it's my turn to snort in disgust. He doesn't filter his thoughts the way he does his words. _He wants her, and he hates that you have her. And I do mean hates, Edward. His feelings for Bella are compounded by that fact. Jealousy and disrespect for you both cloud up his emotional grid._

"I am intimately familiar with Jacob's feelings for Bella and about our relationship." I tap my temple in illustration, pointing out the obvious downfalls of my gift they all seem to be forgetting.

Ignoring Jasper, and even Emmett's in poor taste comment, Carlisle offers his own opinion, the concern in his tone apparent even as he speaks softly in his non-provoking manner. "I know you've been hoping that he would find a way past all this, move on, and if not forget, at least forgive Bella for the wrong choices he thinks she's making. But after seeing him, I'm not certain that's the case."

Shrugging again, I shake my head. "He has _no_ choice, Carlisle. We are getting married, and I will make her a vampire. What he accepts or does not accept, no longer really matters."

"And the treaty? You know it will never survive Bella's transformation."

"Bella's feelings have been resolved as much as possible. She's made her decision, chosen a life with me, such as it is." I shrug, rolling my shoulders with slight frustration. "I can't bring myself to regret that choice any longer, Carlisle. You know I cannot live without her, nor does it seem that she can live fully without me." I laugh without humour. "How ironic is it that not being able to live without each other means not being able to live at all? Her death, her change, is inevitable now. As far as the treaty goes, there is little I can do except hope that common sense will prevail."

Carlisle nods, and he seems pleased with my response.

"Is there a point to any of this, besides the obvious?" I ask, glancing around at all three of them.

"When I saw Jacob, I felt…torn." I can see and hear Carlisle's memory of his last meeting with Jacob as he struggles to form the words he wants to say. "I sympathize with his pain, and he is in pain, Edward. It's written all over his face, shows in every line of his body language."

"Jacob's pain is unavoidable, but not my concern, Carlisle." Bella's pain is my concern, however, and the fact the two can often be one and the same is yet another consequence I must live with.

"I don't mean to imply that it is, in fact the opposite is true. I wonder though, if your feelings of guilt over the situation that forced Bella and Jacob together doesn't sometimes cloud your mind."

I frown, confused. Even his thoughts are flitting around too much to allow me to fully grasp his intentions with that statement. "Why are you being so vague? Even your thoughts are closed."

Carlisle shifts his shoulders and interlocks his fingers. The practiced moves used to make him appear more human are unnecessary in present company, but we rarely drop the facades we've worked hard to establish.

"He's a very angry individual, Edward. Anger and jealousy make even rational people do unwise things. Combine that with his inner wolf, a creature known for its territorial protectiveness of its home and mate, and rational can fly right out the proverbial window."

A cold feeling descends over my shoulders. "You're worried about what he might do. You're concerned I'm underestimating him." I catch the echo of my words in his thoughts as he nods.

"I'd like to believe that cooler heads will prevail, and the Pack will see that amending the treaty to allow Bella's change is in everyone's best interest."

"But?"

Jasper stands, and coming to my side, lays a hand on my shoulder. "It's an explosive situation, Edward. No buts. We just want to make sure that you know, no matter the outcome, we are all behind you…and Bella."

Emmett rises as well and gives the bear cub one final longing look before turning to me with a serious expression. "You need to watch your back, brother. This could get ugly, and you shouldn't underestimate the dogs. Especially not Black."

I shake my head at all of them. I understand their points, but I'm not going to allow paranoia to rule me. "Jacob would never hurt Bella. He'll accept the inevitable soon enough, and Sam is too level headed to break our treaty and start a war he can't win. Besides," I add, "I don't intend to let it be an issue. We'll all be leaving Forks before Bella's transformation. What the wolves decide, or don't decide, won't even be relevant. I won't change her here."

Emmett gives me a curious look. "Where then? Alaska?"

"Yes. All things considering, I think that's the best place."

Carlisle nods, his features clearing. While his thoughts still reveal concern and caution, he concedes there is no current or concrete reason to act in the offensive. Hearing my decision to take Bella to Alaska, far from the wolves territory, eases him considerably.

"You are most likely right, Edward. I'm sorry I even brought it up." He laughs lightly, clapping his hand to my shoulder once again. "Bella has become very precious to all of us, hasn't she? I hate to say it, but I think we'll all rest easier after the wedding, when she's finally with us and we can all keep watch over her."

I join in his laughter, pushing aside the unease I've carried since Jacob's reaction to our engagement. I will never allow anything or anyone to harm Bella, and as we begin our run, eager to get home, Jacob Black and his pack once again become the least of my worries.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Just a quick note here. Charlie is a tad bit OOC in this Chapter. Now that the story is fully underway you'll begin to see multiple POV's in each chapter. Hopefully that won't make things confusing. Likewise, things are starting to get intense, so I'll apologize in advance for the cliffhanger, lol. This is just one of those stories where you should try to get used to them if possible.**

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Chapter 4 - Instinctual

**Charlie's POV**

The steaks are searing away nicely on the grill. I've set the table and even opened one of the bottles of wine that Sue had sent over with Jacob. The non-alcoholic one of course. Again, the irony of having a daughter who's considered old enough to be married, but not old enough to drink alcohol isn't lost on me.

I can hear Bella and Jacob talking through the open kitchen window and smile with satisfaction. Bella sounds a little hesitant, but there's genuine warmth in her voice and Jacob is teasing her light-heartedly. I like the sound of them together and it strengthens my nerve.

I glance at my watch, noting that there is only less than half an hour until the second part of my plan comes into play. I set it up with Karen, one of our secretaries down at the station, to have her call me with a fake emergency at 5:30. I plan on sticking around just long enough to make sure everything is okay, and then I'm out of here. These two need some time alone to talk without dear old Dad hanging off every word, and the only way to guarantee that is to make myself scarce.

Jacob and Bella join me on the deck and once again the sheer size and height of this kid astounds me. He's well over 6 feet and rippled with long lanky muscle. Lately, an awful lot of the Res kids are looking like I might need to be checking for a ring of drug pushers peddling steroids. If most of them weren't such damn good kids, I might actually give that paranoid thought some attention. But like Jake, they all keep their noses clean and I've never had a problem with them. Sam seems to keep them in line, and I can't help but be grateful. With their size and numbers, Forks could have a serious problem on its hands if they were inclined to cause trouble.

Maybe it's my confidence in the fact that Jacob is really a good kid, or maybe it's just his size that makes him seem older. Either reason has me reaching into the cooler and offering him a beer.

He arches a brow in amusement and grins. "That depends. Are you asking me with a badge on, or off?"

Laughing, I toss him the can and he catches it easily. "Off, for today. And only for one. Got it?"

Cracking open the can he takes a long swallow that tells me this isn't his first and salutes me. "Oh absolutely. We wouldn't want your reputation as a hard ass to be tarnished would we." Laughing he holds the can out to Bella. "Want half, Bella? Save me from getting all hammered?"

She rolls her eyes, but grins as she shakes her head. "Nah, I'll pass thanks. I'm pretty sure you'd need an entire keg to get drunk anyway, Jacob."

He laughs again and shrugs. "Yeah, something like that."

I settle into a chair, not surprised at the pleasure I feel seeing them together again like this. I watch as Jacob gently nudges one of Bella's feet with his own when she puts them up on one of the small plastic side tables. She exhales heavily then closes her eyes and I watch as some of the tension leaves her body.

"Sun was out today, Bella; you should have tried to catch a few rays. You get any paler and people are going to start mistaking you for a vampire." Jacob states loudly, grinning.

Her head snaps up fast and her eyes narrow, her mouth drawing in tight. For a second the energy between them seems almost dangerous, but then Bella glances at me and settles back in her chair. "I did catch some sun today, Jacob, but we can't all spend our time running around outside all day like a wild _wolf."_

Jacob roars with laughter and a small smile twitches over her mouth. The strain vanishes and he turns back to me. "So, Charlie, done any fishing lately?"

The conversation switches to fishing and Bella divides her time between listening and heading to the kitchen to take care of the rest of the meal. Having forgotten how easy and natural it is to talk to Jake, I relax and truly just enjoy myself. I'm almost regretting the interruption that's coming. Or I was, until Bella shows back up in the doorway holding her phone.

"Have you seen my charge cord, Dad? I could have sworn I left it in the kitchen catch all drawer."

I haven't seen it actually, and I curse myself mentally. "I haven't seen it, sorry, Bells." I'm glad I don't have to lie but my lack of foresight is not good. If she finds it and Edward calls, which of course he will, then my plan won't go as well as I'm hoping. Since there's nothing I can do I shrug off my irritation at my lack of forethought. I've started the ball rolling and set the stage here. The rest is up to Jake.

"Damn," she mutters softly. "My phone is dead and I still haven't heard from…" She pauses and a slight flush of pink stains her cheeks as she looks up at Jake. "Never mind," she says quietly. "I'm sure it will show up later."

She disappears back in the house and Jacobs face and expression grow noticeably darker. For a second I'm surprised at the anger I think I see there, but then he takes another long pull off his beer and stands, his expression going neutral. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and goes to stand at the rail and now he looks almost weary, like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulder.

"Let me guess," he says with scorn. "She's waiting for a call from _Edward_." He's says his name in a tone ripe with hostility, his muscles bunching and hardening beneath his shirt.

Moving to stand beside him I'm surprised at the heat radiating from his body. It's warm and muggy tonight but not hot, and despite how hot he is, he's not sweating at all. Must be all that youthful testosterone.

I struggle with what to say and finally settle for the truth. "I'm sorry."

He snorts and shrugs as though trying to roll off the tension. "Yeah, you and me both, Charlie, you and me both."

"You know I wish…" I can feel him flinch. Yeah great, make the kid feel even worse I think, as I see his expression harden further as though in defence against whatever I was going to say. As if it isn't painful enough without my comments. He already knows anyway. Saying it out loud would probably just rub salt in his wounds. Still, I can't just say nothing.

"She might be wearing his ring, but she's not officially his wife yet, Jake."

He turns toward me, his face blank again. Slowly he begins to smile, dawning understanding lighting up his eyes. "Ah, I see. So this little dinner, was it more than just a friendly invitation, Charlie?"

He's smiling, but his expression still seems hard, grim. "It wasn't meant to be anything, kid. I just don't like seeing you and Bella have all this distance between you. Friendship is a hard thing to come by. I don't think you two should throw it away so easily."

With eyes cold and unreadable, he shakes his head. "I've got friends, Charlie. You know Bella is more to me than that. There's no point in pretending. I don't want to be her friend; I want more, a hell of a lot more."

He spits each word out not bothering to hide the rawness behind them, and I feel uncomfortable with how direct his stare is. For a second I'm tempted to remind him he's just a kid, that his feelings will change a hundred times before he should be this certain, but I don't. I get the feeling I'm not dealing with a kid, not with him, not with Bella, and sure as hell not with Edward. Again I have the uncanny feeling that I don't have the slightest clue what's really going on here and it makes me uneasy. Then suddenly he laughs, and he looks just like any other kid his age all hopped up on the highs of a crush and swearing to anyone who'll listen that it's the real deal. The same love everlasting, never going to be anyone else, youthful certainty that I've seen dozens of times in the eyes of every teenager I've yanked from the backseat of a steamy windowed car.

"If she finds out what you're up to here, Charlie, you know there's going to be hell to pay, don't you?"

Grinning myself now, I turn back to the steaks flipping them one last time. Jacob's intensity had me a bit unsettled for a minute, but I push it away as he holds out a plate and I see his face and eyes have cleared. He just looks amused, back to being the Jake I've known since he was born 17 years ago. "I guess that depends on how things work out now, doesn't it, Jake?"

He laughs again, but there's still a touch of sadness in his eyes. "Don't hold your breath, Charlie. You're forgetting I've already played this game…and lost."

"Maybe you need to go one more inning."

For a long moment he says nothing, his eyes distant. Then he grins widely and breaks into a deep laugh. "One more?" He glances towards the house where we can both hear Bella humming softly in the kitchen, banging around in her usual way. "Yeah, I might have one more in me." He turns back and looks at me thoughtfully. "Don't hold your breath though, Charlie. This game may have been called a long time ago, and you and I? We're just too dumb to see we've lost."

Spinning on his heel he snags his beer and heads into the house with his plate. "Hey, Bella, come on let's eat, I'm starving."

It takes me a minute to get my bearings back, to shake off the cold feeling that skirts up and down my spine. If I wasn't so afraid of losing Bella forever, I might take some time and pay closer attention to that feeling. My cop instincts tell me to pay closer attention, but my Father instincts just aren't listening. Because maybe Jacob was right, maybe the game was already lost and this was just last ditch desperation at its most dangerous. But maybe, just maybe, he wasn't. If there was a chance, no matter how small, I was determined to take it. I didn't want my daughter heading down the same path her Mother and I had, and I was willing to do this one last thing to try and prevent it. So I shrug off all those pesky warning signs, slam a steak on my plate and go in to wait for Karen's call.

**Edward's POV**

We arrive at the small clearing where we'd left the Jeep in only a matter of minutes, and I take a quick second to change clothes. I was feeling more confident about Bella's safety. If there was anything wrong Alice would have certainly called. She is as tuned in mentally to Bella as she is emotionally. That however, did not mean I wasn't going to forgo a trip home just to check in on her. Providing she didn't call somewhere in between now and our arrival back in Forks that is.

Since Emmett has declared he's driving and already has himself ensconced firmly in the driver's seat, we should make it home in record time. Emmett has even less patience for slow driving than I do. Once upon a time I would have thought we would have matched up evenly on that score. But that was in my pre Bella days. Driving in a vehicle with her was akin to driving with the world's most precious, rare and fragile work of art. Speed was not an appealing option in such an endeavour, and so I'd long since learned to appreciate a slower safer pace. I glance at my watch and calculate that we should be able to make it to Bella's by 7:08 pm, give or take a few seconds.

I put my earphones on and turn on my IPod in order to drown out Emmett's latest obsession with the overly twangy country musician Toby Keith, settling my feet against the dashboard. Just to add to the obvious do not disturb sign that I'm portraying with my body posture, I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes. I've enjoyed the company of my brothers and Father immensely these last few days, but that isn't to say that I'm not a bit worn out by them. Between Emmett's all out ribbing and teasing about my coming wedding night, and Carlisle and Jaspers quiet and understated concern, I'm ready for some silence. Or at least what little of it I'll be allowed. Stuck in a vehicle with three men who've missed their mates immensely, I'm already being barraged by a whole mess of inappropriate visuals and thoughts that I could live without. In an effort to save my sanity, and to be as respectful of thoughts private and not meant for me as possible, I focus on my own excitement.

Despite what Emmett, or Jasper, or even Carlisle for that matter might believe, Bella and I have been growing closer over the last few months and our level of intimacy just might surprise them. For some reason they are all convinced that I've adopted a strict no touching before marriage policy, but that couldn't have been farther from the truth. Instead, Bella and I were allowing things to progress naturally, if a little slowly. Though we'd agreed to wait for our wedding night to make love, it hasn't stopped us from exploring our boundaries.

That did not of course mean that I wasn't still very worried about our wedding night. I had promised Bella we'd try, and that was still all I was promising. No one was more aware than I how impossible the task seemed. Especially when I still needed to fight the insane desire to drain her body dry of the blood needed to sustain her life on a daily basis. Not to mention the fact that one wrong move, one forgotten moment of not perfectly balancing and controlling my strength, and I could seriously harm her in ways so terrifying I can barely think of them.

Resisting the urge to succumb to any of these fears is an ongoing battle, but I'm getting better at it. Case in point, my mind is already moving on and focusing on much more positive and engaging thoughts and memories. Like the one from the night before I'd left.

I smile internally at that memory and let it unfold behind my eyes, effectively banishing a particularly unpleasant one coming from Emmett's direction. There are just some things a brother should never know about his sister, and her favourite sexual position would definitely rank at the top of the list. I open one eye to glare balefully at Emmett, who's grinning back. He's definitely shoving the thought in my direction.

"What?" His laughter and voice are loud enough to hear even over Debussy's melodic Claire de Lune. "I was just thinking that could be a good first time position, don't you think? Or maybe I should be asking Bella?"

I close my eyes and shut him out, increasing the volume of my iPod until his laughter dissipates in the strains of the violin. I let the music carry me back to my memory and in my mind Bella lays beside me on her bed, dressed in a skimpy tank top and shorts. The muggy summer heat has had her coming to bed dressed in an ever decreasing amount of fabric and exposing a very appealing, if slightly alarming, amount of skin. Creamy flawless skin, with the finest and tiniest of blue tinged veins spiralling just beneath the surface. Dear Lord, she is so beautiful. Even here in this speeding Jeep filled with family members, the ache in my body is undeniable. Her body has become infinitely more appealing as of late, outshining even the impossible allure of her blood.

The soft sighs and low throaty moans that escape her lips while I'm loving her in those moments are the sweetest sounds in existence. I've always known in theory that physical love is a powerful thing, a connection that strengthens emotional love in a way that nothing else can. Knowing something in theory, and learning to experience it first hand, has been a humbling experience. Over a century of life has not prepared me for the overwhelming need and tenderness that consume me in those dark, hushed moments. Bella's hands gliding warmly over my skin, the taste of her flesh, her mouth…I bite back a groan that would be difficult to explain in present company and reach for the distraction of my phone.

It begins to vibrate the second my fingers touch the surface, and I smile in anticipation and relief. My smile is short-lived. Not Bella, Alice.

"Edward." Her voice is tight, concerned, and all my instincts go into overdrive. Something is wrong.

"What, Alice, what's wrong?" Emmett instantly turns the radio off and I can hear and feel Carlisle and Jasper lean towards me.

"I can't see Bella, Edward. I lost her about an hour ago, it's all just blank."

"Nothing? Go farther ahead, Alice, look until you find her."

"I've tried, all I get are images that…"

"Alice, damn it, what images? Tell me what you see." We are still a few miles from home and I'm not close enough to Alice for her to show me what she sees. The frustration is impossible, and I growl low and hard. Jasper's hand settles on my shoulder from behind and he squeezes in reprimand. Yelling at Alice won't help her see any better, if anything upsetting her can cause the visions to shut off. I nod my head in acknowledgment.

"They're too confusing. Edward, I'm sorry, I just can't make them out, they don't make any sense and they keep changing. I'm…"

"Do you know where she is, Alice?" I ask, trying desperately to stay calm. I can see the speedometer surging forward as Emmett presses his foot down hard against the gas. The scenery whips by and he weaves easily through the traffic.

"There's only one possible reason I can't see her, Edward." Her voice is hard and I can hear the fear. Whatever she's seen, whatever Bella's current future entails, it has her concerned.

"Jacob." I spit his name out. "Damn him."_ Why can't she stay away from him?_

I look at Emmett as he checks his speed and answers my unspoken question. "10 minutes, maybe less if this traffic holds out."

"Alice, I can't go on the Reservation, you know that. If Bella's just visiting Jacob I can't break the treaty and destroy everything for no good reason." I'm growing desperate. "I need more, Alice, please…"

"The closest vision I can see is…Bella. I can see her at her house…I can see…Charlie's cruiser…flashing lights. An…ambulance…I think, but Bella…she's…" Alice's voice falters and I recognize her trance like tone as her words fade.

"Bella's house, Emmett. Get us there now!" He nods and the speedometer inches higher.

Jasper holds out his hand. "Edward, give me the phone, let me talk Alice through this." I shake my head with another low growl. I don't want to give up the only connection I have to Bella.

"Edward, give Jasper the phone." Carlisle says softly but firmly. "He knows how to help Alice focus. You are only going to upset her and you can't risk her losing her connection to Bella.

I know he's right and I force myself to hand the phone to Jasper. A feeling of dread and instinctive anger heightens my senses, and I can hear Alice's words over the phone even though Jasper has it pressed tightly to his ear.

"Jasper, stay with Edward. Don't get separated from him, don't…Oh, Jazz," her voice breaks and the raw pain and fear she'd been hiding from me comes through despite how quietly she's speaking, attempting to convey her message to him alone. "Bella's in trouble, something is very, very wrong."

Traffic is getting heavier.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Just a teeny warning here for language and underage drinking. Also, once again I'm taking SM's timeline and messing with it a bit. Jacob first discovers Bella's intention to have a 'real' honeymoon in Breakikng Dawn at the wedding reception. I've altered that to fit my story so Jacob discovers that little bit of info here instead.**

**Having said that, once again Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight, including all the characters mentioned in this fic. Sigh, :( Yes Edward too, darn it!**

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Chapter 5 Unravelling

**Bella's POV**

I listen as Charlie's cruiser pulls out of the driveway, pushing the food I have no appetite for around on my plate. This wasn't the first time he'd been called away in the evening for something work related. Being the Chief of Police in a town the size of Forks wasn't exactly high risk, or overly exciting, but stuff happened from time to time. Still, I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't somehow arranged for this. It's been pretty clear tonight that he's hoping Jacob and I will reconcile our differences. Again, if he had any real idea how complicated those differences are…

I can feel Jacob looking at me. The tension that we'd managed to avoid why Charlie had still been here hovers between us. I brush a stray strand of hair behind my ear and finally look up at him. He's already eaten his meal and the remainder of the salad, the rolls, and my unwanted baked potato. Glancing down at my nearly untouched plate, he grins.

"Practicing for the days ahead when food will be strictly in liquid form there, Bella?" He asks, unable to keep a tinge of bitterness from adding acid to his words.

"Really, Jacob?" I ask him, with a shake of my head. "You really want to go there now?"

He shrugs and looks away for a minute before heaving a tired sigh. "Nah, sorry." He gives me one of his patented, I'm a good guy, remember me, your former best friend smirks, and I can't help but smile back. He reaches across the table and grabs the wine bottle, fishes a utility knife out of his pocket and pulls the cork free. Pouring some in each of our glasses, he drains his own without putting the bottle down and then refills it. I pick up my own and sniff cautiously.

"That isn't non-alcoholic wine, is it?" The fumes in fact are strong enough to make my eyes water. I blink through a sudden blur.

Jacob laughs. "No. I got Seth to switch some labels for me."

"And if Charlie didn't leave?"

He shrugged his grin widening. "Your Dad is strictly a vitamin R type of guy, Bella. I wasn't too worried about him passing on a beer for a glass of wine."

I watch as he drains half of the contents of his second glass, and frown. "You should go easy, Jacob. Sue Clearwater's wine has a reputation for being fairly potent." Ignoring my own glass, I stand and begin clearing dishes. I don't want to rush Jacob out the door, but I don't want to encourage him to stay and get drunk either.

"Here, let me help," he offers, rising from his chair and following me to the kitchen. I fill the sink with hot soapy water and start scrubbing while he leans nonchalantly against the counter watching me. His glass is full again.

"So, what's new, Bella?"

I shake my head at him but smile anyway. "Not a heck of a lot, Jacob. How about with you?"

"Well, let's see. I got my heart broken recently, but I guess that you already know that so it wouldn't exactly count as new, would it?" He laughs at my expression and punches me lightly on the shoulder. Or at least I think he meant to punch me lightly. The impact hurts and sends me staggering slightly to the side. Water sloshes out of the sink when I drop a plate trying to catch my balance. He steadies me with a soft oath and an apology.

"Still don't know your own strength I see."

He grabs a towel and stoops to help me mop up the puddle at our feet. "Well, it doesn't help that you're so damn little, Bella," he mutters. He raises his eyes to mine and for a second we both freeze. I can feel that energy, the one I wish wasn't there, crackling between us and I try to stand and gain some distance. His arm snakes out before I can unbend my knees, latching around my waist. One sharp tug and I'm tumbling towards him. One second later and I'm in his lap. I blink, disoriented, and scowl at his grinning expression.

"Not funny, let me up."

Stretching his impossibly long legs out in front of him, he settles back against the cupboards keeping me pinned with ease. "Why?" The grin gets wider. "Aren't you comfy? Because I am."

I squirm and he laughs at my efforts. "Jacob, I mean it, let me go."

Sighing, he loosens his grip but doesn't actually let go. "You know why Charlie invited me here tonight, don't you?"

I quit trying to get away and settle for rigid indignation. "I can guess," I mutter.

"Can you?" He laughs again and his breath is strong with wine. His eyes seem slightly clouded as well, and I wonder if the last two and a half glasses were his first of the night.

"Jacob, just let me up okay?" I try to sound firm. The shock of being this close to him again however, makes me sound more breathless than anything.

He ignores me, again. He's holding me easily with one arm around my waist, his hand holding my wrist gently but firmly against my thigh. My other arm is trapped between our bodies, while he picks at imaginary lint on my knee with his free hand. "Looks like I'm not the only one who's not really thrilled with your _engagement."_

He says the word engagement like it's a bad word. Like I used to say it, before I got used to the idea, before I fell in love with it.

"Actually, I'd say a lot of people aren't thrilled. Did you know talk around town is that you're pregnant?" He doesn't wait for my answer, just snorts in derision. "People are so fucking clueless, aren't they? I mean does anyone actually look at the Cullen's?"

I think about reminding him that not so long ago, he'd believed that all the old Quileute legends were just that. Legends. Things like the cold ones and being descended from wolves had amused him then, and he believed like everyone else that the Cullen's were just regular people. Then I think better of it. He seems agitated enough.

"Sometimes it's hard not to laugh at the ones who say that shit. Even if leeches could procreate, it's not like they could do it with humans. God, people are stupid. I had to listen to two old ladies in the store the other day, carrying on about it. And all I could think about was what they'd say if I told them the truth."

I can feel anger beginning to tug at my insides and I can't seem to resist asking, "What truth, Jacob?"

He focuses on me, on my face, and his expression turns amused. "The truth that you'd be dead right now if your so called fiancé ever decided to test that procreation theory. Not knocked up, just dead."

Shaking my head at him, I once again try to pull away. I might as well be yanking against steel shackles for all the good it does me. "I…would…not…be…dead." I push each word out through gritted teeth and watch as his amusement fades.

"Don't even say shit like that to me, Bella. Don't forget, I'm in on the secret."

"Whatever," I growl. I have no intention of taking this conversation any further anyway.

"I'm not complaining or anything, Bella, but if you keep wiggling around like that, we're going to have to have a conversation about the first thing that comes _up_."

Immediately I freeze and a blush creeps up my cheeks. I try to glare, but again he just finds it funny. "See? That right there, that look speaks volumes. You are so innocent, Bella. How come I can see that and no one else can?" He snorts again. "Pregnant. What a joke." He releases me suddenly and I jump up, barely resisting the urge to slug him. Only the memory of the last time I tried that and broke my hand in the process, stops me.

"I don't want to have this conversation, Jacob. I don't care what anyone thinks. I don't care what you think."

His expression hardens. "Do you not care what Charlie thinks, Bella? You're breaking his heart too, can't you see that?"

I close my eyes, my hands balling into fists. "Charlie doesn't understand. You know he doesn't. Do you really think if he knew the truth that he'd think you were still the better choice for me?"

Rising with a motion surprising graceful for his large size, he grabs his glass and swallows the contents, refills it, drains it again. His hand is visibly trembling when he refills it for the third time. "Hell yes, I think he'd still prefer me. Edward is not fucking human, Bella. He's a God damn leech, a vampire, a corpse. Christ, if Charlie knew he'd sure as hell pick me, werewolf blood or not."

"Stop swearing, Jacob. And stop yelling too."

He shakes his head at me and now I can see he's visibly trembling. He seems to realize it at the same time as I do, and he closes his eyes. I can see his chest rising and falling in slow even movements as he strives to calm his anger and fight the change. Finally he relaxes. He picks his glass back up and takes another drink. I reach for it, but he moves away.

"Jacob, I think you've had enough to drink, please give me the glass." I keep my voice calm, though I'm feeling anything but.

"Don't mother me, Bella. I'm fine. Alcohol has barely any effect on me. My metabolism runs so fast now, I burn it off faster than I can drink it." He sighs and runs a weary hand over his face. "Look," he says softly, his face suddenly sad. "I'm sorry, for swearing, for yelling, it's just…"

I grab the wine bottle thinking to dump out the contents. Despite his logical reassurances he really does seem a bit drunk and I can't see any reason to let him continue to drink. The bottle is empty. Frowning, I try to count the number of glasses he's had and fail. My previously full glass sits empty on the dining room table and even as I watch, he opens another bottle. I try to remember if I still have Sam's, or even Quil or Embry's phone numbers. Jacob won't be driving himself home if I have any say over it.

"Jacob, stop. You've had enough."

He waves me away as I try to reach again for the new bottle. Continuing as though he'd never stopped, his voice takes on an almost pleading edge. "I can't stand this, Bella. I mean, it's hard enough knowing that you've decided to…become…" He groans and the look in his eyes hurts my heart. "But this wedding? This fuc…sorry. This fake marriage, the fake honeymoon, all of it…it's just too much. What's the point? You don't need to do any of it. Why don't you just get married after...?" He curses again softly, unable to say the words. Grunting he pins me with his gaze, his expression confused, irritated. "Why put on the show now?"

"The show?" My voice is ice cold, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Are you stalling, is that it?" He takes a step towards me the look on his face way too hopeful. I feel sick. All this time I'd been hoping that he was finally letting go, and he hadn't been doing that at all. He was still clinging. Still grasping at straws. "Because it's okay if you're not certain, Bella, you can wait, I'll…"

"Jacob…shut…up!" I'm suddenly so angry I'm shaking. "Why can't you listen? Why can't you understand? I love Edward. I want to spend forever with him. As…his…wife. This wedding is not for show, it is not fake. And my honeymoon, not that it is any of your damn business, won't be fake either." I take a deep gulping breath. "You know what, Jacob, you need to leave. Okay? Just go." I point to the door and take a few steps back so he has lots of room to pass. I suddenly don't care anymore if he is too drunk to drive. Let him go wrap Billy's truck around a tree somewhere. I instantly feel sick and guilty at the thought, but it doesn't stop me from spinning around and heading for the door. If I have to, I'll call Charlie, have him pull Jacob over and arrest him. Let him spend the night in the Forks equivalent of the drunk tank. Whatever. As long as he leaves, now, before this gets any more out of control.

I reach the door and yank it open. It's raining and the wind blows against me, though I barely notice. Tears begin to fill my eyes as he comes around the corner slowly. My vision blurs and I shake my head at him one last time before I move away from the door and head for the stairs. I just can't do this anymore.

Jacob grabs me from behind, spins me back around so hard I stumble and fall against him. His hands around my arms feel like vice grips and he shakes me hard enough I feel my teeth rattle.

"What the hell did you just say? What the hell, Bella?"

I wince and try to pull back, angry, hurt. "Jacob, let me go damn it. Just let go and get out, I'm not going to do this with you anymore!"

"God damn you, Bella, don't you dare say shit like that to me and then tell me to leave. What the fuck are you trying to prove? Not a fake honeymoon?"

Furious, I try to wrench my arms back but his fingers bite into my flesh with steel tenacity. Unable to lash out physically, I let him have it verbally, both barrels blazing. My voice is loud and cold as I spit each word out, tears spilling down my cheeks in rage and frustration."My honeymoon won't be fake, Jacob. Edward and I are getting married, we are going to be husband and wife, in every way, deal with it!"

_I wish now that I'd been stronger. That I hadn't let my pride get the better of me. That I'd kept my mouth shut. But by then I was so angry, so hurt, so tired of justifying my actions. To him, to Charlie, to my friends, even in small stupid, useless ways, to the whole town that I just lost it. The anger felt good. It felt righteous and I deserved it. It was mine, and it burned right through every ounce of common sense I'd ever had. But more than any of that, I wish I hadn't started crying. The sting of tears caused everything to go out of focus, including the look of rage on Jacob's face. Maybe, if I'd seen it, saw that anger, recognized it? Maybe there was still some small chance I could have calmed him down. Maybe._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 Apprehensive Acceptance

Charlie's POV

Slamming shut the last folder on my desk, I glance at my watch. I've only been at the station for a little over half an hour, but it feels like a hell of a lot longer. Catching up on paperwork isn't taking nearly as long as I thought it would. I stare at the pile on my desk, and groan in irritation. It's not like I can trust any of the work I've done here tonight anyway. My mind is not on my job.

Cursing I stand up, feeling the tension in my lower back flare into real pain as I head for the coffee pot to refill my cup. A nasty aftertaste in my mouth combined with a spike of indigestion has me tossing the Styrofoam cup in the trash instead. I don't need the heartburn, or the caffeine induced nerves. I already have both in spades due to my inability to come to terms with what I've done tonight.

The station is mostly dark and deserted, save for the few night dispatchers. Two other officers are working night detail. They've left on a vandalism call well over an hour ago, so I can't even distract myself with conversation. I check my watch again and curse my indecision. My gut is telling me I've done this all wrong, but my head is logically, trying to deny that feeling.

I need to move. Standing here isn't doing me any favours. I make my way out to the patrol car giving a quick, cursory nod to the dispatchers, and once outside, suck in the cool wet air. The weather is as indecisive as I am tonight. Only a few minutes ago it was a raining cats and dogs and now it's just half heartedly drizzling. The temperatures dropped a bit, and that, combined with a sudden wind that blows rainwater under the collar of my jacket, has me shivering. Or at least that's what I try and tell myself. Because that shiver can't have anything to do with the apprehension that I haven't been able to shake ever since I walked out my front door leaving Bella alone with Jacob.

I get in the car and slam the door unnecessarily hard, giving in to the desire to close my eyes for a moment. Logically my apprehensive feeling has no basis in reality. My plan, such as it is, is in play. Jacob and Bella are together, alone, and when I left the tension between them had been minimal. With me gone, they'll be free to talk things out and resolve their differences. Exactly what I wanted. Right?

I glance at my watch again. 6:45 pm. I've been gone a little over an hour. Is that enough time? Should I head back, check in? Edward's text said he'd be home around seven. I should probably be there then, shouldn't I?

Edward was normally the very definition of control. His reactions are always calm, and I've never once seen him lose his cool. Not even the day that Bella broke her hand punching Jake after he kissed her. If there was ever a time that jealousy or a temper would come into play, it would have been then. Oh, they'd had words for certain, but as usual Edwards's first concern had been for Bella.

I feel a new twinge of guilt at that thought. Edward's first concern always seems to be for Bella. In fact, other than the time he'd left her, I'd never seen him break that trend, not once. And he'd explained, and so had she, his reasons for leaving then. If they were legitimate then I can't fault him, even for that. When he'd come back and I'd been forced to allow him in the house, I'd seen the way he'd looked at her. The pain, the concern at how fragile and thin she'd become. I could see that he blamed himself, and I could see that even though she'd so easily and obviously forgiven him, that he hadn't done the same. Still to this day I see that look cross his face when he's unaware that I'm watching him while he's watching her.

A headache begins to throb at the base of my skull as I contemplate that look. That isn't the look of a man who would ever repeat his past mistakes. Whatever else I can say about Edward Cullen, I can say this. He loves Bella with a depth and power that cannot be disputed. And her, my beautiful, clumsy, spirited, older than her years daughter? She lights up every time he's near, as though he's her sun, her moon, as though he hung every damn star in the night sky just for her. She used to look at me that way a long time ago, before everything in my marriage came crashing down around me and I lost my family in one final whirlwind of accusations and packed boxes.

I cringe mentally at the memories that are still too painful to bear, and even more at the thought that all of this here tonight is nothing more than a sad, pathetic attempt to hold onto what I lost years ago. Bella is not Renee, Edward is not me. Whatever mistakes they may or may not be making they will be their mistakes, not ours.

I let my mind roll back over this evening with Jacob, still very aware of my growing apprehension. I can't put my finger on it but something about Jake is off. It's more than the bitterness of losing Bella, more than his dislike for Edward, but damned if I can pinpoint what it is. He isn't the Jake of the past I realize. He's changed, grown harder and colder with a wisdom and knowledge in his eyes that contradicts his young age. I don't recognize the kid I once watched grow up, and the shadows that cross his face speak of darkness and secrets that have altered him in more ways than his growing body. Hell, if I'm honest, a part of my apprehension isn't even about Jake, it's about Bella. She hadn't been happy about tonight. Not even a bit, and I realize what I've been missing up until now. I might still be upset about her letting go of her friendship with Jake, might still be lamenting about the lost opportunities there, but she wasn't. She's made her peace with her good bye. She's made her choice. Jake was right. This game was called a long time ago and I'm pretty much the only one who hasn't gotten the message.

I start the car and pull out, heading for home. There's no point in hoping anymore or in holding onto something that isn't mine to hold on to. It's time I made my own peace with Bella's decision. Starting with sending Jake home before Edward shows up. Or at the very least, being there to make sure that Edward understands that Jake's being there is my doing, not Bella's. It's high time I quit fighting the inevitable and except Edward once and for all as the path my daughter has chosen, and as my future son in law.

Edward's POV

Cursing, I hang my phone up yet again. I've been calling Bella's cell and her home number for the last twenty minutes but I'm getting nothing. Her cell is off and all I get is endless ringing on her home line. Even the answering machine is not picking up.

Jasper leans forward in his seat with the phone still pressed to his ear. "There's an accident about three miles up. Alice says that's what's causing the traffic. We need to get off this road."

"Which exit, Alice?" He turns his attention back to the phone while we all wait anxiously for her instructions. I resist the urge to slam my hand against the dashboard in frustration. I've been watching the speedometer drop for the past five minutes as traffic begins to lock up.

"Get off up ahead, Emmett, exit 98." Jasper instructs, his voice annoyingly calm.

"No, that's going to delay us another ten minutes or longer." I'm yelling, even as Emmett attempts to merge into the right lane.

"Alice says it's the only way. If we stay on this highway we're going to get jammed up for at least twenty minutes. They're letting traffic through, past the accident scene, but only single lane and its moving slow, Edward."

"Emmett, get off road. Get me to those trees up ahead. I can run back to Forks faster than this."

I can hear Alice talking, but she's keeping her voice pitched low so I can't make out all of her words. She seems to be arguing against it. I can see Emmett hesitate, looking between the oncoming exit and the grouping of trees I've pointed out. The dark rain clouds will give me enough cover to slip away unseen as long as Emmett gets me close enough, but I can see he's waiting for Alice.

"Alice," I yell, not bothering to hide my panic. "You know I'll be faster. I'll head to Bella's; it's the most logical choice for where she is."

"Okay," Jasper nods. "Go Emmett; get Edward as close as you can. Edward, I'm going with you."

Emmett grins and guns the engine, racing off the road and down into a ditch that most drivers could never get out of. Emmett is not most drivers. I can hear the sudden barrage of surprise and unkind thoughts coming from the drivers surrounding us as he roars out of the deep depression and out over the grass. Large chunks of mud fly from the wheels as the soft wet ground is eaten up by the jeeps massive all terrain tires.

"No, Jasper. You need to stay on the line with Alice. I have my phone. If she gets anything, anything at all, call me. I need you two to keep me on track." My hand is already on the door handle, as the crop of coverage comes slowly but steadily closer. "Come on, Emmett," I mutter, more to myself than to him.

Jasper groans. "Alice, sweetheart, listen to reason. You know it makes sense for me to stay on the line with you. You're panicking; the visions are all over the place."

I can hear Alice clearly again and it's obvious that she's yelling, maybe even to make sure I can hear her. "Jazz, stay with Edward."

"Carlisle, get ready." Emmett interjects, his concentration complete. "I'll bail and go with Edward. You drive. Jasper stay on the line with Alice, keep her focused. We need her focused, Edwards's right. I've got his back."

"I can't wait for you, Emmett." I warn softly. "I have to go, you can meet me there."

He nods, already like me with one hand on the door handle. "Just go, I'll keep up as best I can and I'll be right behind you." Our eyes meet and he nods again. "Right behind you, brother."

Jasper reaches out and grabs Emmett's shoulder in a vice like grip. "Don't lose him, Emmett." And I know those are Alice's words, not his.

The Jeep stops abruptly, and Emmett and I leap out simultaneously to vanish in the trees. No one is close enough to see us. Even if they were, we are both moving too fast for human eyes to perceive us as anything more than a fleeting shadow, an odd placed breeze. Within seconds, I am already out pacing Emmett but knowing he's close behind is my only calming thought. My instincts are telling me that Bella is in trouble, and nothing will keep me from her now.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N **_**WARNING:**__** This chapter contains scenes of sexual assault (not rape) that some readers may find disturbing. If you are sensitive to this type of material or if you are under the age of 14, I recommend you skip this page.**_

* * *

Chapter 7 Dangerous Dissension

Bella's POV

"_My honeymoon won't be fake, Jacob. Edward and I are getting married, we are going to be husband and wife in every way. Deal with it!"_

"Deal with it?" Jacob's voice is a raw growl. So low and dangerous that I instantly recognize the feral wolf lurking just beneath the surface. His body is trembling almost violently, and I feel a surge of fear soak my muscles with adrenaline. The extra strength and Jacob's shock at my words which loosens his grip momentarily, allows me to twist free of his grasp. He's managed to spin us around and now he's blocking the stairs with his body. When I turn towards the door, thinking to get outside and put some much needed distance between us, he slams it shut with one quick jerk of his long arm.

Knowing that to be near him if he changes is incredibly dangerous, I quickly begin backing away into the living room. I blink past my tears and curse myself for my stupidity. I've pushed him too far. He follows me, still trembling, his face a dark mask of anger.

"Jacob, you need to calm down," I whisper, my throat clogged with tears and fear. Visions of Emily's half beautiful, half scarred face dance in the front of my mind. My fate? Or worse?

The phone is right behind me and I reach for it, trying not to be obvious. Charlie's cell phone is the first number on speed dial but I hesitate, suddenly torn between the need to protect Jacob and the need to protect myself. I hesitate too long and his eyes, dark with anger and the shadows of something painful, lock onto my extended arm.

He grabs the phone and tears it cord and all off the table, throwing it into the hallway. I can hear the jagged broken pieces skidding across the hardwood. I'm hysterically reminded of the sounds of ice skates scraping over ice rinks, like some odd and disjointed memory from my childhood.

"Where is he? Where the hell is he? I'll kill him for this, Bella." Jacob lunges at me, wrapping his large hands around the tops of my arms. "Tell me where the hell he is?"

For a minute my fear and confusion make it hard to focus. "Charlie's…"

"Not Charlie, _Edward_. Tell me where he is."

He gives me a hard shake that makes my teeth rattle in my head. "No," I yell, trying again to pull away. "Jacob, you have to calm down. This isn't about Edward." For the first time all weekend I am so happy that Edward isn't here and the relief brings my mind back into focus. I need to calm Jacob down, fast.

"Not about Edward? Do you think I'm stupid, Bella? I know this is his idea. I won't let this happen…I'll…"

I can feel his body, the coiled tension, the heat, almost as though it's expanding in the air around us. "Listen to me, Jacob. You're out of control, please, _please_, just calm down okay. I know you don't want to hurt me. You have to get control of yourself."

He lets go of me and takes a quick step back, his breathing impossibly fast and rasping. With a heavy groan he leans forward and presses his fists to his thighs as though he's in physical pain. I manage to take a few more steps away from him and come up against the couch, almost falling as my knees threaten to give out.

Jacob steadies his ragged exhalations, his face a mask of extreme concentration as though the effort is monumental. Unbending abruptly he looks at me, and though the trembling has lessened I can still see his rage, feel it like a palpable presence, solid and real.

"Tell me where…he…is!"

I shake my head, and he lets another deep growl rip from the back of his throat. "Fuck it. I'll find him myself."

Panicked, I take a reckless step towards him before he can turn away. "Jacob, wait! Listen to me! It's not Edwards's idea. It was mine! I asked him to do this for me."

His body grows impossibly rigid, the shock on his face temporarily masking his anger. "_What?_"

I need to keep him here. Need to keep him talking and keep him calm somehow. I don't know if he could find Edward or not, I only know I won't allow anything else bad to happen because of me. Not to Jacob, not to Edward, and certainly not to the very tenuous treaty that exists between the Quileutes and the Cullens.

"It's the one thing I want," I whisper, forcing my voice to stay calm. I hate with every fibre of my being that I've done this. That I let my idiotic pride get the best of me. If I'd just kept my mouth shut… It's too late for that; all I can do now is try to undo some of the damage. Try to make Jacob understand, even if it means stripping apart something elementally private. My voice shakes but I force the words out. "Before…he changes me. It's the one thing I've asked from him. The one human experience I don't want to…give up."

For the longest time he doesn't move, doesn't respond. His expression is closed and completely unreadable, but at least the trembling has stopped.

"You…asked him for _that_?" His mouth draws in tight at the words as though they taste bitter. Emboldened by the fact that he finally seems in control of his other nature; I take a few steps closer, pleading with my eyes for him to understand.

"Yes. He didn't want to say yes, but I begged him. He's only promising that we'll _try_, Jacob. He's afraid…"

"He should be afraid," he roars, his voice so loud it hurts my ears and cuts off my explanations. "He should never have agreed to even try. Damn it, Bella, what are you thinking? Don't you understand? This is dangerous, more than dangerous. He'll kill you. It doesn't matter if he doesn't want too, he just will, he's too strong…_God damn it all to hell_."

He grabs me again in the exact same place on my upper arms and pain flares brutally over my already bruised flesh. His eyes rake mine; searching, trying to read my mind perhaps and I let him, trying to show my honesty. "There are legends, Bella, tales about this stuff. His..._kind,_ they're not capable of the restraint... Jesus, I know how fucking innocent you are but you can't be this stupid."

I ignore the insults and keep talking. "He won't hurt me, Jacob. _You're_ wrong, _he's_ wrong. He could never hurt me." He squeezes harder, making me cry out. "Stop it, Jacob, let go."

"Ask me," he demands suddenly, his eyes flaring in determination.

"What?"

"If that's what you want. A sexual experience before you change? Then ask me."

"Jacob, don't be stupid," I yell. Tired, frustrated, unbelievably sad, I grab onto his arms and try to pull them away from mine. I can see his anger escalating but I don't know how to stop it. "I don't want a sexual experience, I want..."

"I'm not stupid," he interrupts brutally. "I know you want _that_ with…_him_." He closes his eyes, struggling. When he opens them again his expression is darker, more determined than ever. "But I also know you have feelings for me too and _I can_ give you what you want…I…" He stumbles in his words, his skin taking on a slightly darker color, as though he's blushing.

"Jacob, you don't know what you're saying. This is messed up; this whole evening has been messed up. You drank too much, but it's all okay, alright? You just need to go home, sleep it off." I can hear the pleading growing in my voice as his expression seems to become more and more determined to follow his illogical train of thoughts.

Shaking his head, he let's go of one of my arms and tries to cup my face in his palm. I twist away, jerking my head to the right.

"I should have done this a long time ago," he mutters more to himself than to me. "Bella, listen to me. It's safe with us, I don't get…crazy, or…lose control then. I…I've been with someone, since you and I…" He groans and shakes his head. "I'm sorry. You know I wanted it to be with you, but…" He shrugs.

I feel sick, not because of his confession, but because of his reasoning behind it. Angrily I jerk my arms even though I know it's futile and spit my words at him with venom. "I don't care, Jacob, let me go, _now!_ This isn't what I want."

"I don't believe you." His grin is cocky and his breath washes over my face as he leans closer. The alcohol fumes are strong, sweet and sour all at the same time. My stomach twists and I shove against his chest as he begins to walk us backwards. My back hits the wall so hard it shoves the air from my lungs with a loud whoosh and I see spots flash in front of my eyes from the pain. Before I can refill them his mouth is on mine. Hot and insistent, and I can taste the pungency of the wine on my lips when he pulls back.

"I can give you what he can't, Bella. He can't do the things I can do for you. Even if he was capable of not hurting you, which he isn't." He leans in closer again and I have to fight not to scream.

Turning my head, I use the tactic I'd used that day at the reservation when he'd kissed me for the first time. I let my body go limp, shutting down. My voice stays neutral. "No, Jacob. It isn't going to happen, ever. I don't want this, I don't want you."

Cursing, he slams his fist into the wall behind my head, once and then again, his fists easily going straight through. Large chunks of plaster and drywall crumble down around me, bouncing painfully off my shoulder, scraping my ear and neck. I can feel grainy, scratchy pieces falling down inside my blouse.

"Jacob, stop!" I slam my hand against his chest, but I might as well be hitting a cement wall. Remembering my last broken hand I stop and try to grab his face instead, needing to make him look at me. My heart is slamming inside my chest like a jack hammer. "Please, don't do this." Tears pool in my eyes as I plead, but this isn't Edward. Jacob doesn't seem to care or to be moved in any way by my begging.

His mouth is on me again, his tongue forcing its way past my lips and my teeth in the most invasive way. I try to bite him, but he yanks back with another low growl before I can do more than scrape his mouth with my teeth. Suddenly his arms tighten around my waist, lifting and pushing me harder against the wall so he can kiss me again, now able to align his mouth closer to mine and with even more force. Nothing yields. Not the wall and not his body, and I can feel the blood vessels bursting beneath the skin on my back creating more bruising and even more pain. The new position frees my legs and I aim short sharp kicks at his shins. My efforts are futile, made all the more pathetic by the flimsy soles of my ballet style flats. Abruptly he pulls us away from the wall and moves to the couch. I get my mouth away from his and in fear and frustration I scream his name, tell him no.

My still kicking legs are ineffective at hurting him, but they do impede his movements enough that he stumbles and takes us both down hard. My lower back and right side hit the arm of the couch and for a second everything dissolves in darkness. Excruciating pain explodes down my right side, bringing the light back with it and I wonder briefly if I've broken a rib before he shoves me farther onto the couch. I can't seem to catch my breath and when he groans my name, clearly oblivious to my discomfort and trying again to kiss me, it's all I can do to turn my head.

His breath is hot and moist like a sauna. His lips feel wet and slick as he slams them against my neck and everything is rough and forceful. His hands are all over me, tugging at my clothes, trying to get under my blouse. Somehow I manage to bring my knee up, but his hand grabs it before I can take aim. I realize my mistake a second too late as he uses my movements as leverage to pin me on my back beneath him. Somehow I manage to get enough air in my lungs to scream.

"_Stop it_!"

Jacob lunges back, his face twisted with lust, with anger. "Stop fighting me, Bella. I know you want me, just stop fighting."

"I don't want this, Jacob."

He shakes his head and kisses me again, his hands twisting and tearing at my clothes. Cool air hits my skin as the material of my blouse rips. I can't breathe, can't move at all as he shoves his knee down between mine. His hot large hand scrapes over my breasts, roughly trying to pinch, to fondle, and I gag against his mouth. No one, not even Edward has ever touched me this way. I can't stop him, though I try and twist away. My panic is consuming me. I can't stop him, can't reason with him. The smell of wine and beer is so strong that combined with his impossible heat and the searing pain every time I try and take in air, the room begins to spin. I wrench at his hair with my left hand and then finally get it under his chin. Using all my strength I dig my nails in, shoving upwards. If he feels it, he gives no notice.

Finally he tears his mouth away from mine and grabs my hand, shoving it up away from him and pinning it to the couch. My right hand is locked between my body and the couch, and any attempt to move it causes bolts of agony to slice over my ribs.

"God damn it, Bella, stop fighting me. I know you want this, I know you do." He's excited, aroused, his voice rough with his emotions. I can feel his erection, rigid and burning into my hip. I want to gag but I need every ounce of my breath to reason with him.

"No." My reply is low and angry, filled with every ounce of indignation that my panic numb senses can dredge up. Nausea rolls though my stomach as I watch his expression change from anger to something softer, more pleading and coaxing, but no less determined.

"I love you, Bella." He starts to lower his head, and I twist my face away, beginning to sob. He kisses my neck again, his hands moving lower, trying to be gentler now that I've stopped fighting. Stubble on his chin scrapes painfully against my flesh, burning as he presses closer, trying to force a reaction. Tears spill faster and faster from my eyes.

"Jacob, no, no, no, no, no…Please, God, stop…" His hands reach my pants, tugging ineffectively at the snap and zipper. His weight is becoming heavier and I can barely breathe now. I feel his frustration, hear his vulgar ugly curse and the sound of tearing fabric makes my panic heighten tenfold. I shove up against him, the pain in my ribs no longer a consideration as the full realization of what he is about to do overwhelms me. I can't move him. My body just seems to hit his and bounce off like a fly against a window. Each time I bounce back, I'm shoved further and further into the couch. I'm suffocating, helpless and trapped and unable to find enough air as he keeps pressing me down harder and harder, touching me everywhere.

His hands suddenly quit with the impulsive groping and move roughly over my stomach, too hard. I cry out but it's nothing more than a weak sounding gasp with no power. His hot palms feel like fiery cement blocks pressing down on my tender insides. He yanks against the fragile lace waist band of my panties, and I use the last of my air to scream as loud as I can.

"NO!"

Cursing, he pulls back slightly. "Shut up, Bella, just stop…screaming. I won't hurt you, I just want to… just let me... I can show you...it'll be good...just...I won't hurt you..." The fabric under his hands tears and digs into my skin as he tries to tug it out of his way.

"You _are_ hurting me," I sob. "Please, don't do this." Something in his eyes finally shifts and I latch on to it praying I can reach him. "Not like this, Jacob, please okay. We can, but… not like this, I don't want it to…Charlie, could come home any minute remember?" I will promise him anything, tell him anything he wants to hear to try and stop this to try and buy some time for myself.

He blinks and for a second I think I can see that he's actually hearing me, but then he grins. "Charlie would probably be happy to see us like this, Bella. Trust me; he's not coming home anytime soon."

He starts to lower his head but I keep talking, keep pleading. Words are my only defence. "Stop. Jacob, we can't right now. I…"

"_Why?" _He grunts angrily. "I know you want me, Bella. You just feel guilty, yeah, just guilty…because of him…He doesn't deserve you, he doesn't deserve _this._ You should have been mine but he took you away."

I can see his eyes beginning to cloud over again and desperately I shove against him. "Okay," I gasp, sick at what I'm about to say. "You're right. I do want you, Jacob."

"I fucking knew it," he says, his voice dark with triumph as he lunges down, trying to press his mouth against mine. I evade him, but just barely. He lets go of my hand and grabs my jaw so hard I can almost feel my bones unhinging.

"We can't now, Jacob, stop." I plead seconds before he tries to seal his lips over mine. "I have my period, we can't okay, please, not like this." I'm crying harder now, sobbing in pain and terror and I close my eyes while hopelessness swamps me. Nothing is working. I can't reach him. I see Edward's face in my mind suddenly and clearly and my heart breaks, wondering if he'll ever be able to forgive me for this.

Jacob goes completely still. "Fuck, are you kidding me?"

I open my eyes and shake my head, grabbing onto the vague hope that there still may be a way to reach him. "No." My voice is nothing more than a whisper, but he groans and suddenly I'm free. He moves off of me, his long legs carrying him in short strides to the opposite side of the room where he rakes his fingers brutally through his hair, trembling again and swearing.

As I scramble to my feet holding the shredded sides of my blouse closed, he turns around so that he's once again facing me. I can taste blood on my lips from his brutal kissing. Reaching up tentatively, I find a jagged slit on my swollen bottom lip that is bleeding freely. It throbs like a heartbeat and the taste of my own blood fills my mouth with rust and salt. He sways and starts cursing, then suddenly slams his fist against a new wall. I try to back away. I need to get outside, out of the house, away from him. My truck keys are hanging on a hook by the door. Even as I'm thinking it, I know it's pointless; I'm not fast enough to outrun him.

"You really have your period? Now?" His voice sounds disbelieving and he seems to be having trouble focusing.

I nod, watching his eyes blink, as he shakes his head. Not in disbelief, but as though he's trying to shake the cobwebs from his mind. For a second he looks lost and confused.

Before I can hope that I've reached him, his expression changes again and he grins in a way that makes fear skim down my spine. "Fuck it, Bella. I don't care. Just one more thing the bloodsucker can't do for you, right? Even if he could stop himself from killing you, he sure as hell couldn't do it now, could he." He laughs and I can't see Jacob anymore. Whoever this is, he's stolen whatever soul Jacob might have had left. "Hell, that's probably why he isn't here right now, isn't it? He probably can't even stand to be near you, never mind touch you. Pathetic, what do you see in him? He can't even be a real man for you in any way, can he?"

He starts moving towards me, but his movements are slower and unsteady. If his metabolism is burning off the alcohol it isn't showing. He seems drunk, really drunk for the first time and I feel my muscles tense. It's now or never.

"That isn't true," I whisper. My voice sounds dull and detached and the room spins in half circles around me. In my head I think; he's more of a man than you will ever be, Jacob. Though I don't say it out loud it's enough to give me one last ounce of strength and energy.

"Yes, it is," he replies, smirking and confident and eerily different from the Jake I know and love. He moves towards me and my heart races in my chest, the last of my adrenaline surging down into muscle tissue that trembles with exhaustion and pain and something that feels like too much like defeat to acknowledge.

Trying to throw him off I move left. When he slowly follows, I turn right instead and attempt to dart past him. He reaches out and tosses the coffee table out of his way as though it were a child's toy though I happen to know how incredibly heavy and solid it is. His action forces me back, and as the table smashes against the wall, I dart forward again, hoping to take him off guard. His hand latches onto my arm, his reaction anything but slow. Twisting hard I throw my weight into him wanting to use the momentum to push him off balance. My foot catches one of the broken pieces of the table and I feel myself lurch back again, falling like a stone to the ground. I scream as the impact jars my ribs, and nail like splinters of the disintegrated coffee table drive themselves into my palms.

Everything begins to blur and my body won't obey my brain. It's screaming at me to move, to get up, to get away, but nothing happens, all my limbs sluggish and heavy. I can't stop this. I never had a chance.

The sound of the front door slamming open seems to come from very far away and I wonder if I've lost consciousness, if I'm dreaming. I manage to get my head to turn towards it anyway, watching the objects of the room take on odd shapes and fade in and out.

"Bella?" Charlie steps into the room his eyes sweeping over me then over Jacob, who's still standing only a few feet away. His expression undergoes several changes all of them too rapid to process before finally hardening into fury. In slow motion I see him draw his gun, and I watch in an odd state of detachment as he levels it at Jacob.

"Don't move, Jacob. Not one inch. Or I promise you, it will be the last thing you ever do."

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**A/N I'd love to hear opinions on this chapter. I found it a bit challenging to write, so I am sincerely interested in how you guys felt reading it.**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 Collision

**Edward's POV**

I ran as though the devil himself pursued me. Emmett lacks my speed, but his strength usually grants him advantages over rougher terrain such as these. Yet he cannot keep pace with me today. He falls behind and only the presence of his thoughts in my mind tells me I am not alone. The wind hisses against my ears and it's the only sound as creatures both great and small fall silent at our passing. My mind is on her, and only her. My phone remains quiet, proof that Alice has seen nothing that would alter my course.

I stop at the edge of the woods, scanning the area quickly to make sure the way is clear. It only takes seconds but each wasted moment of necessary observation enrages me. I can see her house, see her truck and Charlie's cruiser, but most of all I can see and smell the presence of Jacob Black. A dark and lethal rage begins to consume me and it takes effort to push it back, to not allow it to dictate my movements. I have no idea what is going on here, no real comprehension of the dangers that may lay in wait for me, and until I do I need to stay in control of my emotions.

Blocking out every other sound, I search for the one I need to hear above all others. Bella's heartbeat. Effortless, I have centered my entire existence around that sound and it obliterates all the others. My relief at hearing it is short lived. The rapid thrum is as clear to me as if she had spoken directly into my ear, communicating her anxiety and fear in each pulsing beat. The final distance between her and I is clear, but it wouldn't have mattered if it was not. Nor does it matter that I am no longer the only creature moving through the night. Emmett is very close and I leave the approaching wolves to him and to the other members of my family who are approaching just as rapidly.

**Charlie's POV**

There is no hesitation in my actions. I level my sight on Jacob without wavering, the gun as solid in my hand as if this was any criminal and not the 17 year old son of my best friend. Though I can only see Bella in my peripheral vision, her battered image is ingrained in my mind where it will no doubt stay for the rest of my life.

"You're pointing a gun at me, Charlie?" Jacob's expression narrows, changing from shock to indignation to belligerence.

"Get on your knees; put your hands on your head. Now!" I feel detached, separated into two distinct beings. The cop spouts well rehearsed words, keeps his finger lightly against the trigger and assesses the situation before him with practised professionalism. The other side, the Father, is horrified and tortured at what I know I've done.

It is that other side that slows my reaction time when Jacob lunges and covers the distance between us with little effort. I feel his fingers close over the gun and I instantly drop one hand and twist my torso. Using all my force I jam my shoulder into Jacob's sternum in a move that would have easily disabled any other man. He barely flinches. With only a soft grunt of pain he loosens his grip, though not enough to allow me to regain control. The smell of alcohol radiates from Jacob's breath, but nothing about his movements show intoxication.

I drop my shoulder again, but this time he's ready for me and he shoves back, the power behind his move knocking me off balance. His fingers clench around mine as the momentum of his shove sends us both sprawling, and as he grabs the gun it goes off with a roar. Jacob lands against me and my entire body braces for a crushing impact that never comes. Instead of feeling his weight slam me to the floor I see his body suddenly jerk backwards and fly across the room as though he was launched from a canon.

Edward. I see him for only the briefest of moments. One second he's there and crouched low, a feral hiss resounding around him as Jacob disappears, and then he's gone. There's the sound of a body meeting a solid surface, the shattering of items cascading from a shelf, and Edward is gone again. I jerk abruptly to my feet and watch in disbelief as Edward picks Jacob up off the floor. As though he is nothing more than a hollow rag doll, he throws him viciously and bodily through my living room window. The sound of glass shattering is the loudest sound I have ever heard. It echoes in my head long past the point where the last shard falls to the floor.

Edward moves to the window, every movement of his body eerily perfect and fluid. I can see his hesitation and hear a low and unearthly growl of frustration blending with that last falling shard, oddly musical in my fragmented thoughts. I can see he wants to follow and I can almost feel the murderous rage coming off him like electrical sparks.

"Edward." Bella's cry is soft yet lost and full of pain, and once again my eyes deceive me. He's there by the window, and then he's not. I turn my head slowly like a disjointed marionette, already knowing long before my eyes acknowledge the truth that he will be there. All the way across the room, having crossed a distance of twenty feet in less than the blink of an eye. He's already lifting her, cradling her like a tiny child, murmuring her name and nonsense that blends together until it sounds like nothing more than a soothing hum.

The room spins and I back-step slowly until I can brace myself against the wall. My knees buckle and I sag down to the floor.

**Edwards POV**

Jacob Black hits the ground outside and I watch as Sam, Seth, Quil and Leah slide from the darkness and surround him. Their thoughts are hesitant and evasive, and as one their eyes turn to me. I expect accusation and anger and there is that, but also concern. I have no knowledge that explains their presence. Jacob has remained in human form as far as I can tell, so his thoughts would not have been shared by the pack or been able to alert them to his wherabouts.

Emmett, Alice, Esme and Rose slip into the yard and surround them. Their stance is quiet and watchful but their faces are angry. None of them say a word and they only appear more lethal in their silence.

"Let us take care of our own, Cullen." Sam's thoughts are calm, though there is an undercurrent to them that speaks louder than anything he could ever say. He is blocking me, filling his mind with the present and giving nothing away of what he may know. He glares up at me, paying no attention to the other members of my family.

Ignoring him, my rage no longer burning hot but ice cold, I turn my attention to Emmett. My tone is low; nothing more than a hiss, but the command is unmistakable.

"He's mine."

Emmett nods once, needing no further instruction. He moves forward, his eyes on Sam and his expression dangerous as he places himself closest to Jacob, his stance clearly showing he'll prevent any of the Pack members from moving him, with force if necessary. None of my family knows yet what Jacob has done. The wolf packs presence still blocks Alice's visions, but their thoughts are cohesive. They don't need details to understand that a line has been crossed and all of them will shed blood in retaliation, without question. Jacob remains still, obviously unconscious and though I ache to finish his life, Bella needs my attention.

So does Charlie. The scent of his blood is strongly permeating the room and growing stronger by the second.

"Edward."

Just my name, her voice barely raised above a whisper, and yet her pain is conveyed as easily as if she'd screamed. A fissure appears in my stone silent heart, the rage inside cooling even more until it settles in the marrow of my bones. Jacob Black will pay for this with his life.

In my arms she is impossibly rigid. Her skin is cold as though the heat of her life is slipping away, though try as I might I can find no mortal injury. She is covered in his scent, her clothes torn, her lip bloody, and a second fissure crosses over the first. The agony of what is just now becoming apparent is unbearable.

Bella's hands clench in my shirt, her tiny body constricting in pain and she moans. Convulsive tremors wrack her.

"I'm sorry...Edward...I..." She gasps softly, her teeth beginning to chatter. Although I can hear Carlisle's thoughts and sense his presence only seconds away from the house, I growl his name loudly.

"Carlisle, now. I need you now!"

_Yes son, I'm here._ His thoughts blend with the sound of the Jeep that tears into the drive and the wail of a distant ambulance. If the scent of Charlie's blood is any indication, and of course it is, the ambulance is not close enough.

"Hush, love," I whisper softly, though she's said nothing since her apology. Her breathing is shallow, and she trembles against me so hard that I fear she will shatter in my arms. I continue to whisper nonsense words of comfort as I attempt to place her gently down on the sofa. The cushions and decorative pillows are all displaced and she recoils instantly from its surface, the reaction making her cry out loudly in pain. I draw her back immediately; sick with my own stupidity at placing her down in the place that has obviously been the scene of some kind of violence against her. Her heart escalates in fear even as I move her away with soft spoken apologies meant to calm.

I take her instead to a chair that sits alone in the far corner near the window. It is covered in glass shards but I pay no mind. I settle her as easily as I can in my lap while Carlisle kneels before us. I shake my head at him and raise my eyes to Charlie. Bella's injuries need attention, but her life is not in danger. Carlisle's eyes drift over her once, his thoughts matching my own before he vanishes and reappears at Charlie's side.

"An ambulance is on its way, Edward. Several squad cars as well." Jasper appears at my side, his face impassive except for the flicker of darkness that crosses his eyes when he looks at Bella. He's stopped his breathing, even still his fists are clenched and the tightness of his jaw belies the torture he feels from the heady scent of fresh spilled blood.

_We need to move him. Now, Edward. You do no one, including Bella Swan any good by allowing the humans to find him here. Any of us here. Let us take him. _Sam's thoughts are ripe with anger and frustration. Jasper tenses at the sounds of Emmett and Alice's low throated warning growls. Leah hisses angrily and Rosalie responds in kind. The confrontation outside is escalating with the ever increasing tension.

Sam is suddenly there, glaring down at me. Jasper moves easily and quickly into a protective crouch in front of us.

Sam ignores him and snarls quietly at me in a voice laced with frustration. "Is this what you want? Exposure? Don't allow your anger to destroy us all." His tone is pitched low and he looks nervously at Charlie, who despite all odds is still conscious. "Let us take Jacob. Whatever has happened the time for revenge is not now, surely you see that."

"Jacob...is...under, arrest. Take him...any...where, and I will...arrest...you all." Despite his weakness and the stuttering of his breath, Charlie's threat is hard with authority.

Not only is he conscious, but he's also aware. Dangerously so. His eyes narrow at Sam.

Carlisle demands Charlie's attention, forcing him to look away from Sam. "Charlie, listen to me. This is not a matter for the law. We have to protect Bella now, do you understand?"

Charlie winces, his expression wretched with torment. "He hurt her, Carlisle, my fault. I...can't...let him...get away with...it."

Growing desperate as the sounds of the sirens draw closer, Sam forcefully interrupts, his eyes still on mine. "If you allow this there is no telling what the repercussions will be. Jacob is in no state to be rational and I cannot control him once he is taken from me. I can't even give him the Alpha..." Sam trails off, his eyes darting to Charlie. "I can't stop him," he amends. "Do you understand that?"

Charlie's heartbeat has become erratic, and I listen with growing fear as his breathing turns shallow. His arguments have cost him the precious little energy he has left.

Carlisle stands, having done what he can for Charlie and turns to me. "He's right, Edward. The risk of exposure is too great, we must act now." He moves to Jasper and lays his hand against his arm. "Go tell Alice and Esme and Rosalie to follow the Pack to the Reservation Border and to stay there and keep watch. Jacob Black goes in, he does not come out."

"No." My voice is ragged with frustration. I know that Carlisle is right, but I want Jacob here. Rational or not I don't want him out of my sight, and I want time to tear him limb from limb before I kill him.

"The time to deal with this is not now, Edward. Bella and Charlie must come first." His tone drops and fills with his anger as he extends his hand and rests it lightly on Bella's head. "We will make sure he doesn't escape justice."

Sam bristles and Carlisle instantly turns on him with a deep, vicious growl. "He has harmed one of my own. Take him now, but this is not over. Gather your Elders, Pack leader."

Nodding once, Sam turns and he and Jasper leave. Kneeling, Carlisle gently tips Bella's chin up and scrutinizes her face. "There is little time, Edward. We must make decisions here quickly."

"She's in shock," I reply quietly.

"Yes."

Emmett has come in to the room and he moves to my side. "What do you want me to do, Edward?"

Standing with as much care as possible so as not to jar Bella, I speak softly. "I need blankets, Emmett. Top shelf in the upstairs hallway." He leaves instantly and I turn to Jasper who's already imparted Carlisle's instructions. The room is inundated with small waves of calming energy and my head clears further. "Take her, Jasper. Get her in the Jeep, wrap her in blankets, and turn on the heat. She's in shock, its vital you keep her warm."

His eyes widen and his thoughts revolt, but I shake my head at him. "Do it, Jasper, you will not hurt her, I trust you. I need you to do this; we are running out of time."

Nodding he opens his arms and I place her gently into them. She doesn't make a sound, nor does she react in any way and my fear for her escalates. She needs medical attention. "Be careful, Jasper," I whisper. I cannot keep my pain and fear from him. "Keep her calm."

Jasper disappears, Emmett following closely behind with his arms full of blankets and even pillows. He's heard my instructions to Jasper and his thoughts are on making Bella as comfortable as possible.

Carlisle is once again kneeling beside Charlie, his hand pressed to his side as he tries to further staunch the bleeding that is soaking through the compress he'd improvised from dish towels. Despite his injury, Charlie's eyes burn into mine, clear and coherent. His thoughts are in turmoil and I flinch internally as they latch on to what he has seen here tonight.

"My fault," he says quietly, his gaze burning with intensity. Not guilt ridden pain, but a clear and direct confession. There isn't time for a debate.

"Yes." I will not coddle him. His thoughts show me how his decisions and choices have brought us here. The cold shards of my fury slice new tears in my heart, and I hold nothing back in my words. "And if you were not her Father your life would be forfeit."

He does not flinch from my threat. His mistakes do not change the man inside or the core of steel that is still intact. "What are you?"

"I am the man who will care for Bella for eternity, long after you are gone. I will do everything in my power to heal her, to save her from your costly mistake. Will you allow it?"

He hesitates, but only for the briefest of seconds. "Yes."

"Then listen to me. You came home and confronted an intruder. A thief who'd broken in while you were out." Instantly I can hear Carlisle and Jasper, who has left Bella with Emmett, moving around the room and setting the stage. "There was a struggle, the gun went off. The intruder escaped." I can hear Emmett moving the Jeep and see Rosalie through her mind as she thoroughly erases all the tire tracks and signs that it had ever been here.

His breathing is laboured but he nods. "Jake..."

Allowing my expression to back up my words I speak quietly, putting the full force of my immortal being behind it. The mask of humanity disappears for the first time in the presence of Bella's Father. "Jacob Black is mine; he will pay for what he's done. I promise you that."

The ambulance and squad cars arrive, the lights flooding through the broken window, covering the room in pulsing colour of red and blue and highlighting the fear and confusion on Charlie's face as he stares at me.

"Tell me you understand?" I squeeze my hand hard against his shoulder using the pain of my grip to keep him from slipping into unconsciousness.

He nods again and I release him. "Charlie." His eyes were beginning to close but they open quickly in response to my call. He tilts his head up to focus on me once again. "You will fight." I tell him. "You will live to earn her forgiveness, and mine. You will not add your death to her pain."

His eyes do close now, though he nods as though he's agreeing to my demand. His already difficult to read mind is too hazy with pain and confusion to discern any trace of his current thoughts, so I can only hope I've reached some deeper inner strength inside of him with my demand. Conflicting emotions tear at me and I clasp his hand tightly, this man who would be my Father in law. This man who fathered the woman I cannot exist without, who only wanted to protect her from me. My own malfeasance is as much to blame as his. "I will take care of her for you, Charlie," I promise. "Always."

Rising quickly with no attempt to hide the unnatural movements I would normally take such pains to hide, I leave before the humans catch me here, trusting that Carlisle and Jasper will take care of this. Bella is my only priority now.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Huge apology to everyone for the slow update. It may not show, but this chapter, - and the ones that follow, - have required a large amount of attention to detail. Which means I've been googling and reading and researching my fanny off just to write a few sentences, lol. I needed to know things here. Like how it feels to have broken ribs, the symptoms of shock, and gunshot wounds, and dozens of other little things that are too numerous to mention. In other words, what Bella and Charlie are going through in this chapter is written as realistically as possible. **

**Especially in the case of Bella, I feel it is important to note the word - ****realistically****. While I loved the Twilight series, I found SM had a tendency to write Bella's character as being, at times, almost too strong. Women who have been the victims of violence, such as what has happened to Bella here, are traumatized. They do not dust themselves off and keep going as though nothing has happened seemingly unaffected by the assault. Although it varies by individual, I will be trying to touch upon many of those realistic reactions throughout this story. This may make it seem as though I am writing Bella as OOC, but I think I will let you all be the judge of that. **

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Chapter 9 A Life in the Balance

**Bella's POV**

I can't seem to focus. Everything around me keeps weaving in and out, like a water colour painting when you get too close. Even sound is wrong, and the voices around me drift from loud to quiet to nonexistent. Nonexistent is good, because the voices aren't saying anything I want to hear.

Everything hurts. I can't differentiate between any of the pains now and I'm not sure if that's good or bad. I can't bring myself to care either way.

_Charlie...Dad_...I try to focus on the thought of him and on his face because I feel like I should. Like there's something there I need to latch onto, but the threads of my thoughts keep slipping away. Like the smell of cordite in the air, mingling with the nauseating rust of blood. It was so strong at first, but its fading and now all I can smell is the rain.

_Jacob._..I close my eyes and then open them just as fast. The sound of sirens is loud, then quiet, drifting away before I can really focus on them. I wait for nonexistent. Nonexistent doesn't hurt my head. Nonexistent can't break my heart.

_Edward_...He's here, holding me. I know that much. He won't want to hold me for much longer. Not when he finds out what I've done. I should curl into him, enjoy it while it lasts, but the effort required seems to be more than I can manage. I'm okay as long as he keeps holding me, as long as he doesn't let go..._Please don't let me go._

I wanted to say that out loud - I thought, I said it out loud - but maybe not. Or maybe, he's just already at the point where he doesn't want to hold me anymore. Jasper feels even colder than Edward and his arms hurt my ribs, the tender place on my back where the wall had..._No, don't think about that, not now, not ever._

"Jasper?" The air outside is damp, drenched with the smell of wet grass and earth. "It hurts," I whisper. There isn't enough air to tell him why, to tell him his arms are too tight. There isn't enough air, period. I can't breathe deeply. Every indrawn breath is like a knife lodged in my side. The pain makes me dizzy.

"I know, Bella. I know it hurts, sweetheart. Just let me get you in the Jeep, okay?" His voice is strained, as though he's the one in pain. For a moment I wonder why, but I can't hold on to that thought either. Jasper moves me and the pain makes brilliant patterns of red and black explode behind my eyelids.

When I open my eyes again, Emmett is there. I can see him clearly and then I can't. Watercolour paintings again, melting his dark hair and his features, until he's just a shadow man, a faceless blur. I let it all blur, like faded memories, black and white snapshots, mist and fog. It hurts to try and focus. My eyes and my cheeks are wet and cold.

I think it's the rain.

**Edward's POV**

I take a second to stop in Bella's room to grab clothes and necessities I know she'll need. Her room looks the same as always, the books stacked by the bed, her hairbrush on the dresser. Her scent is everywhere, absorbed by fabrics, engraved in surfaces, the very essence of Bella as much a part of the structure as the wood and nails, and plaster. The scent and sight of her objects steady me and reinforce my objectives. Get Bella safe and cared for, and then find Jacob Black.

Emmett has the heat blasting in the Jeep, and yet Bella's hands still feel like ice. Her face is too pale, her eyes dark and shadowed. I can see bruises, beginning already to bloom along the delicate line of her jaw. Perfect fingerprint shapes against her pale soft skin.

When I find Jacob, his death will not be an easy one.

She doesn't look at me. "Bella."

_She's out of it Edward. She told Jasper she was in pain, but she hasn't said a word since. We need to get her to the hospital._ Emmett's thoughts speak more clearly of his concern than any spoken word. Concern for me, for her. His expression is grim.

"Yes. Carlisle is going to meet us. Drive to the South side entrance, be careful, Emmett. I think she has several broken ribs."

_How's her Father?_

I shake my head, brushing a strand of hair away from Bella's cheek tenderly. I'm careful to keep my movements slow so as not to frighten her. Though in truth she seems hardly aware of my presence. My thoughts turn to Charlie. His condition is life threatening, but there is little I can do. For Bella's sake, I hope his strength is enough to pull him through. To add his death to this nightmare could break her completely, no matter how strong she is.

As though she senses my thoughts, her head turns slowly until she faces me. Her eyes are unfocused, her breathing shallow. She's showing all the classic symptoms of shock and I wrap my hand around her upper arm, squeezing until I can feel the blood rushing through her veins. Her pressure is low, her pulse too fast and it's all I can do to quell the growing panic. Have I underestimated her injuries, and if so what have I missed?

"Bella, love, can you tell me where it hurts?" Her gaze rests on my face but she doesn't seem to really see me. Drawing the blankets back, my nostrils flare as I drag in air deeply, searching for bleeding. Nothing. Beyond the tiny trace around her mouth and the normal healthy scent of her menses, I can detect nothing else. I breathe deeper, feeling an acid like burn deep within my sinus cavity as the dog's stench invades my senses. I push the scent and my intensified rage away, breathe deeper still, aching inside and praying I will not detect what I am most afraid of.

My phone rings, distracting me. Carlisle.

"How is she, Edward?"

"She still seems to be in shock, though I can't find any medical reason. She's not bleeding unless it's internal; her blood pressure is a little low, pulse rapid. No sign of Cyanosis yet, but her breathing is very shallow. She just seems...out of it, Carlisle." My voice clearly defines my fear. "We're only a few minutes away."

"I'll meet you at the door. I've already disabled the security cameras. Keep your eyes open when you come in, we're being watched."

"Who?"

"Too far away to tell specifically. At least two members of the Pack, possibly more. It appears we're not the only ones wanting to keep track."

A low growl erupts from my throat at this news. The audacity of such action threatens to overwhelm the tenuous grip I have on my temper.

"Stay in control, Edward. Get Bella to me. She needs you to stay calm. I'm getting everything prepared."

Hanging up, I try once more to get Bella to respond. Chafing her hand gently I say her name again, firmer this time, invoking a sterner tone. The whites of her eyes are tinged with red striations and she blinks slowly. Whatever is going on with her seems to be escalating.

"What?" Nothing more than a slightly slurred whisper, and yet I'm overjoyed to get even this limited response.

"Can you tell me where you're hurting, Bella?"

Tears, sudden and distinct pool in her soft brown eyes, overflowing rapidly down her cheeks, all the more startling and gut wrenching for the lack of expression on her face. She turns her head as though she's looking for something.

"Edward?"

"I'm here, love, everything is going to be okay."

She shakes her head as though in negation. "Where...are?" Again her words are oddly slurred, and her brow furrows in anxiety. I can see her trying to focus on me. "Watercolours," she whispers, before closing her eyes, screwing her face up in dismay.

"Drive faster, Emmett." I'm missing something. She's not herself, and while emotional trauma alone has been known to cause symptoms similar to shock, there is more to this I'm certain of it. If she's bleeding internally I cannot detect it. Her scent is off, wrong in a way I cannot define, but the overpowering reek of _**him**_ is keeping me from finding the source. It is so faint as to be nearly undetectable and I can't pinpoint what it is.

"We're almost at the hospital, Bella. Carlisle is waiting for us." My reassurances seem to fall on deaf ears. She opens her eyes, but they're distant and unfocused, as though she's looking inside at something only she can see. A tiny trace of blue begins to appear on her lips, a bit more around each fingernail. Cyanosis. She needs oxygen and soon, she's not getting enough. Her shallow panting efforts failing to deliver her body what it so vitally needs.

I drag more of her scent in, frustrated by the niggling sense that I am missing some important clue. There it is again, faint, so very faint and indistinct that I can't hold on to it. It's there, then gone.

"Medicinal. I can smell it too, Edward." _I can smell the dog all over her too. Did he...? I'll kill him myself if Edward doesn't. If he leaves anything, any scrap at all, it's mine..._

_"_EMMETT!" My voice is a loud growl, repulsed by the thoughts running through his head that I can't yet contemplate. Bella doesn't react to my yell at all. Emmett's words have startled me, his thoughts and anger like shouting in my mind, but he's right. The faint trace of wrongness about her scent reminds me of pharmaceuticals.

The car accelerates again and suddenly we are in the south side lot. It's thankfully abandoned aside from a few cars driven by hospital staff. Everything is dark and I realize that Carlisle has made sure the parking lot lights are all out, as well as the security cameras. Emmett pulls the Jeep directly to the door.

I'm as careful as I can be when I move her, still searching, trying to understand and recognize the wrongness of her. She whimpers and tries to pull away when I lift her.

"Shh, love, be still. Everything is going to be okay."

Carlisle opens the door and leads the way down a short deserted hall to the wing that holds his private office. I lay Bella down on the examining table and Carlisle instantly pushes me back.

"Carlisle, wait. There's something off here, something I'm missing."

He turns and places his hands on my shoulders, his expression firm. "Edward. Let me examine her, okay?"

Moving back, nodding, hating that I can only be more hindrance than help at this point, I watch Carlisle pull back the torn edges of her blouse. Her entire right side is already bruised, growing more so by the second. Here in the bright lighting I can see more bruises, and more places where bruises will soon form. Her ivory flesh is mottled with angry red welts and splotches soon to be black and blue.

"Bella, can you hear me?" Carlisle shines his light in her eyes, a small frown puckering between his brows when she doesn't respond. "Help me turn her, Edward." His voice is quiet and professional while his thoughts scan rapidly through her symptoms.

Together we turn her onto her side and she whimpers again, sharper and much louder this time. Carlisle uses scissors to cut away the remnants of the fabric and I groan at the sight of still more bruises covering her back almost entirely. Darker on the right side, again confirming my, and his, suspicion that she has at least one fractured rib. I can barely see from the anger. It pulsates like a living breathing thing inside my mind, threatening to consume my sanity.

Emmett hisses, and I hear him turn and leave the room. His thoughts are a match to my own, as violent and dark as any I've heard from him.

"She needs x-rays. There's no internal bleeding, but I don't like how unresponsive she is." He calls her name again and she finally acknowledges him, but only vaguely.

I watch as he takes her blood pressure and her pulse, his hands moving with quick and precise clinical detachment over her body. His thoughts follow every action, and I follow his every thought.

_Pressure low, 90/60 but stable, pulse rapid, respiration shallow. Breathing difficulties, likely due to the pain and pressure from the fractured rib. Multiple contusions, mild lacerations. Pupils, dilated. Lack of responsiveness not due to emotional trauma or shock due to severe injury._

I interrupt his rapid train of thought. "If it isn't shock, what is it, Carlisle?"

Frowning, he leans down closer to Bella and inhales deeply, mimicking perfectly my actions earlier. He's detected something as well.

"Flunitrazepan."

My entire being is consumed by the blackest of thoughts at the name, my anger escalating almost beyond restraint. The phrase date rape drug flares repeatedly through my mind. "Rohypnol? He gave her Rohypnol?" Bella flinches from the volume and tone of my voice and Carlisle lays his hand on her shoulder to steady her and keep her from moving. He shakes his head, his features still creased with confusion.

"Bella, I need you to pay attention to me now." Her head turns again, and though her eyes still seem unfocused, I can see her trying to do as he asks.

"Carlisle?"

"Yes, Bella. I need you to listen carefully. Can you do that for me? I think you have some fractured ribs, that's why it feels hard to breathe. I'm going to give you some oxygen to help you with that in a minute, okay? And something for the pain as well. I know you're hurting."

"My back...hurts."

There is little left of my heart to break. I wonder if it will be my mind next. I can smell the drug, stronger now that I know what it is. Her confusion and her unresponsiveness are classic symptoms. If anything the amount in her system must be low which is why I had such a hard time recognizing it. Rohypnol is a powerful drug that often incapacitates anyone who ingests it.

"Yes, you have some bruising and swelling there as well."

"Carlisle give her something, now!" I can't stand to see her hurting this way. Her eyes are once again damp with tears and her lips tremble. He holds up his hand in response, urging me to be silent.

"Bella, I need to know if you've had any alcohol tonight. A glass of wine perhaps?"

She's struggling to stay focused and I am grateful to see some of the fog seems to be lifting.

"No." Her tongue touches the split on her lower lip and her hand rises slowly to touch it as well. "I don't...Jacob..." Sadness and utter pain cloud her words, and the tears fall faster now. I want so badly to touch her, to hold her, to get her as far away from here as possible. My hands curve into fists on the desk in front of me which rattles under the pressure.

"He brought wine...but I didn't... Where is my Dad?" She's scanning the room her words still slurred slightly, more confusion marring her perfect features.

Carlisle ignores her last question. "Did you take anything else tonight, Bella? Any medications?"

"Medications?" She says the word as though it's a foreign language, as though it has no meaning to her. An attempt to shake her head, whether in answer to Carlisle's question or because she's trying to clear her mind, seems to hurt her. Her face becomes paler, her features pinching in pain.

"Bella, it's important. I need to know so that I can help you feel better." Carlisle's tone is firm and almost loud as he tries to pull her back from the confusion that threatens to take her under.

"I don't remember." She closes her eyes, tries to take a deeper breath, and winces. "I think...Advil?" She sounds like she's asking and her voice is still so slurred I barely make out the words.

"Do you remember how many Advil you took?"

I can see her trying to focus on Carlisle but her eyes slide from his face to the wall and she doesn't answer.

"Two," I answer for her, familiar with her routine. "Every four hours or so. She wouldn't take more than a safe dosage, Carlisle."

He nods at me and moves around to the opposite side of the examining table taking Bella's arm gently. "I'm going to draw some blood now, Bella, keep your arm still."

I take a few steps more away and turn my back, stopping my breathing. I am having enough trouble with my control without adding blood lust to the mixture, even if I know I will never act upon the instinct that still tries to govern me.

A soft exclamation of distress from Bella has me turning back and going to her side. I will not be weak for her now. Brushing the hair away from her cheek, I whisper her name and her eyes meet mine and stay there.

_Her wrist is broken too, Edward._

The groan that tears from my throat at his thought is too low for her to hear, but not Carlisle. He finishes drawing her blood and gently covers her with a blanket, assuring me in his mind none of her injuries so far are life threatening. He steps back and lays his hand on my arm, speaking quietly.

"I'm going to start her on oxygen to help her breathe. Keep her calm. I know she's in pain, but until I know whether or not she's ingested that drug, or any other for that matter, I cannot give her anything."

He finishes the rest in his thoughts only. _This should only take a minute, when I come back I need to examine her further, Edward. It would be better if you didn't stay for that. _

My eyes close as I realize what he's implying, and his hand tightens. I want to believe that Jacob would not be capable of doing such a thing. I want to believe that my senses would detect if he had. The presence of the drug mocks me. I am not a fool, I never have been. I know I can believe nothing now but the proof that only Carlisle and Bella can provide.

_I'm sorry, Edward. I wish I could spare her this. I sent Jasper to check on Charlie's condition, but he should be back any minute. I'm going to have him stay close and have him help Bella to relax. I promise you, I will be as careful and gentle as possible with her. I should have thought to have Alice or Esme here...I'm sorry, son._

One final squeeze and he's gone, leaving her and I alone. Her eyes seem to clearing a little, but I can still see her struggling to bring the world back in around her. With the utmost tenderness I touch my hand to her cheek.

"It's okay, love. Close your eyes, rest." I wish Jasper we're here now. I wish I could send all of this away for her. If the drug is in her system, I can only hope that she has some peace in the confusion it brings. Her next words destroy that futile hope.

Shaking her head, she turns away to stare at the ceiling. "I don't want to close my eyes", she whispers, her voice sad, the enunciation crystal clear and forced, as though she desperately wants to be heard. "I don't ever want to close my eyes again."

**Charlie's POV**

The fluorescent overhead lights pass over my head. _One... two... three._ I lose track of the count, start over. The air around me smells like chemicals and disinfectants. The white walls seem to reflect sound and light, and even that smell so that the intensity is too much and all I want to do is hide. If it wasn't for the pain I would close my eyes, block it all out. To do that however, would make the pain the center of my universe and it's unbearable enough as it is.

Scalding, white hot, intrusive to the point of insanity. I have never known pain like this.

Someone touches my arm. Disembodied voices float around my ear, all of them saying things that are meaningless.

"Single gunshot wound to the abdomen. No exit wound which means we have a bullet lodged here, people. I want him prepped for surgery immediately. Start a litre of O neg stat; he's lost a hell of a lot of blood."

I feel like I'm drifting. Becoming separate from the voices, from the lights and the smell.

"Stay with me here, Chief."

_Do I know you?_ My lips won't form the words.

A hand, hard and unearthly cold clenches down around my shoulder with startling intensity and I open my eyes. I hadn't meant to close them, had I? The face above me is stunningly handsome with dark unfathomable eyes. _Jasper._ I don't know him. He's Edwards's brother, a quiet kid, serious, distant. I try to remember why he's here, and fail.

He leans close, his eyes never leaving mine. They're darkly compelling and I feel oddly afraid. His breath is as cold as his hand, impossibly sweet and numbing on my face. "Bella needs you, Charlie Swan. Fight for her."

"Bella," my mind fragments with images. _A little girl dancing around the Christmas tree, laughing in the sunshine with a red plastic ball, chasing an orange striped kitten. "Can we keep him, Daddy? Please?" _

_Soft brown eyes imploring, changing, growing. Laughing. All gangly legs and sun splattered freckles. "Look, Dad? It's a snapping turtle, its going after your fishing line..." _

_Changing again, no longer a child but a woman, smiling at me in that secret way that all females have. "Dad, you need to eat less red meat. Here, have some of this salad too, I want you to be around for a while yet."_

The hand lets go, the fluorescent lights begin to flash overhead once again. _One... two... three..._

"BP is falling; we need a crash cart here, stat!"

"_I'm coming to stay with you, Dad, in Forks, okay?_"

The lights stop then waver and flicker as though a child is playing with the switch. The pain is fading, so I close my eyes, letting the memories spin.

*****_"We're getting married, Charlie. I love her more than anything in the world, more than my own life, and - by some miracle, - she loves me that way, too. Will you give us your blessing?"_

"Come on, Chief, hang in there for me. Charge those paddles. Now!"

"_Yes! Yes, you have my blessing! I should have given it to you a long time ago, Edward." _He isn't there, but somehow I know he can hear me. I hope he can hear me. His presence in my mind seems so undeniable.

"_You'll take care of her for me, Edward. Just like you promised. She belongs with you now, son. I guess she always has."_

The lights begin to flicker again, faster this time. _One... two... three..._

_The woods outside, just to the North of the hospital, are dark and silent. Shadows move, sinuous and graceful and ripe with barely contained energy. There is no sound beyond the trickle of rain pattering among the wet leaves and ground save the soft, panting breaths of those shadows. With no moon, nor light to reflect, the eyes remain dark with only the tiniest hint of luminosity. Their thoughts are silent, shared only by each other. Six minds working as one._

_"Soon. We can't afford to wait much longer. Wait for my command, and then move. Remember, we don't leave without Bella Swan. Nothing else matters."_

* * *

**A/N * - line belongs to Stephanie Meyer. Taken from Breaking Dawn, pg.# 15.**

**Flunitrazepan or Rohypnol is an actual drug that is often used in incidents of sexual assault. Perpetrators slip the drug into the drink of their unsuspecting victims. Symptoms include muscle relaxation, severe disorientation, and hallucination, loss of cognitive skills, reasoning and blackouts. The effects can be felt as quickly as 15 to 20 minutes after ingestion. The drug is odourless, tasteless, and colourless. The incidence of so called date rape and the use of date rape drugs are on the rise. Be safe and never leave drinks unattended.**

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	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 Coming Out of the Haze

**Edwards POV **

"_You'll take care of her for me, Edward. She belongs with you now, son. She always has."_

"Damn it, Charlie. Don't _fucking_ do this to her!" I growl low in my throat, pressing my forehead to the cool, hard surface of the wall. "Not now, please." I know he can't hear me. I know the only thing that can save him now is the God that abandoned me a century ago. I can't even pray for him, and the frustration and anger threaten to destroy the last fragile thread of my sanity.

"What is it, Edward?" Emmett moves from the window where he's been keeping watch, to my side. His hand clutches my shoulder, painfully tight and I use the sensation to anchor myself.

"Charlie. He's losing the fight, saying his fucking good-byes in my head." I never swear. I was raised in a time where language and the spoken word, were all a man had to show his intelligence and moral upbringing. Another reminder of how I do not belong here and now, in a world where vulgar cursing peppers nearly every conversation. And yet, the foul word flows off my tongue with frightening ease, dripping in its own form of venom.

"I'm sorry, Edward." Jasper has kept his thoughts tightly controlled, to the point that I've missed his approach. His hand replaces Emmett's. "They're taking him to surgery." _There is little hope_.

His thoughts are more potent than his words. He attempts to soften them with his gift, surrounding me with an aura of false peace. I shake off his hand and turn to face him. The look in my eyes causes him to nod, and the feeling slides away almost immediately. I do not want, nor do I deserve, comfort now. The only one who truly needs it is Bella.

"Carlisle...needs you. Jasper,_ I_ need you. He has to...examine Bella." My throat tightens and my mouth floods with venom, an instinct to protect and defend my mate. An instinct born much too late. "Please, Jasper," I whisper. "I don't want her to feel anything, know anything. Can you do that?"

Jasper's eyes burn into mine with that strange radiance of calm serenity and danger that always surrounds him. A part of Jasper will always remain an enigma to me, but I have never been more grateful to have him as my brother than I am right now. The necessity of this examination does not negate what it will do to Bella should she have to endure it without the benefits of what he can do to numb her mind from the invasion. An invasion too similiar in some ways to what she's already suffered.

Jasper nods. "Yes." He says the words with a conviction that resonates deeply in the silence that follows. Quietly he slips away and through the door, letting me know in his thoughts that he will use every facet of his gift to make this not only tolerable for her, but something she won't even be aware of .

I know that I should leave. Walk away from the thoughts and images that are already beginning to flood my mind. And yet I cannot leave her, cannot bring myself to move from the closed door. I have to know.

I see her first in Jasper's mind. Pale and so still on the examining table it's frightening. Only the slow, shallow inhalations that make her chest rise and fall beneath the thin blanket, tell me she is alive. The bruises along her jaw are darker, more pronounced, and my rage at the sight mixes with Jasper's.

He places his hand on her forehead, smoothing her hair back, his touch gentle. Her eyes open slowly and she blinks, still confused and still very much under the effects of the drug. Through his eyes, I can see the sharper edges of her pain.

"Jasper?"

"Yes, Bella."

"Where's Edward?"

It's all I can do to stay put, to not tear through the door.

"He's here, just outside. Carlisle needs to examine you now, okay? I'm going to be just on the other side of that curtain, so that I can help you to stay relaxed. Do you feel relaxed, Bella?"

"Yes." Her eyes close in response. I can see the lines of her body easing beneath the blanket. A subtle shift in the way she lays that makes it seem as though she's sinking farther down on the table.

"That's it, Bella. Just let all the tension slip away."

Jasper's voice has become as hypnotic as his emotions. The power of his gift at its fullest, so that even through the doors and walls I can feel some of what Bella is feeling. Emmett as well, and from the corner of my eye I can see his shoulders relax and his stance loosen from his vigilant post at the window.

"I'm tired," she whispers. My heart breaks again as a tear leaks from the corner of her eye. It trickles slowly over her pale, white cheek and drops to tremble in the corner of her swollen lip.

"Sleep then, Bella. No one will harm you now, little one; sleep."

Bella's sadness and fear floods Jasper's thoughts, and I can feel him redouble his efforts. Her eyes snap open and flare, dark and bruised with emotion.

"No, stop it, Jasper."

His surprise matches my own. I realize at the same time he does that she doesn't want to sleep. He pulls back, stunned at her resistance.

The drug in her system must be creating a block. She shouldn't be able to resist.

He settles her with more waves of calm and Carlisle appears at her side. "It's okay to sleep, Bella. I'm going to give you something for the pain now."

Carlisle's thoughts are completely focused on her, although I can read them as easily as if he was projecting them at me. The blood work has shown traces of Rohypnol, but only traces. The dosage was so low that there is little worry of adverse reaction if he gives her something now for pain. Again though, her eyes flare.

"No. I'm okay. I just need...to focus. Please, Carlisle. I don't want...to be...drugged up, I don't want to sleep." The effects of the Rohypnol are just beginning to fade. I can almost see the fog lifting from her mind through Carlisle's eyes. Jasper has stepped back and slipped quietly behind the screen of fabric with its metal frame that Carlisle has pulled up to give Bella some semblance of privacy. He is still striving to inundate her with his gift, but no longer trying to send her fully under.

"Bella. Do you understand that I need you to relax now? I know that you are afraid to sleep. I understand. But I need you to be as relaxed as possible during this examination. Do you remember when I explained what I need to do, how I need to make sure you haven't been injured in any way?"

"No," she whispers again. "I don't need...you don't need to do that, Carlisle. The examination, I mean. Jac...he didn't..."

"Bella, you've been under the influence of a drug. It's called Rohypnol. Do you know what that is?"

Her eyes close again momentarily, and I can see her giving in more and more to Jasper's influence. She's exhausted, hurting mentally and physically. I can feel her pain through Jasper's thoughts as he senses and interprets all of her emotions. It's more than I can bear, and yet I cannot move. If she suffers than so too will I. Every step of the way. Whatever hell she endures is mine to endure as well, a thousand times over.

"Yes. But I remember..." She frowns and I can hear Carlisle's unwelcome thoughts.

_I've explained all of this to her already. She's having trouble remembering the conversation we just had. I cannot trust anything she thinks she might remember, no matter how much I wish I could._

Carlisle's thoughts alone are torturous, but combined with the images of rape victims he's examined over the decades, and the brutal damage that can be left in the wake of these assaults, they nearly cripple me. The evidence at hand, the torn clothing, the bruises and welts and broken bones, all point to one overwhelming fact. If Bella was raped her internal injuries could be grave.

Bella tries to draw in a deeper breath and winces, her expression twisting as she whimpers in obvious pain.

"Bella, let me give you something to help you."

Carlisle is warring within himself over the pain medication. It goes against his natural impulse to see her suffering, and yet, he cannot add to her fear by giving her something she doesn't want.

Ignoring his request, she continues. "No, I'm positive that he didn't hurt me...that way. I told him that I have my...period." She shakes her head, a blush painting her cheeks with the first colour I've seen on her skin since I found her. Despite the reason for it, I feel an almost absurd joy at the sight. As though it is some tangible proof that she isn't completely broken. That her spirit may still be intact.

Carlisle nods in understanding, as aware as I, of what she hesitates to say. That she thinks such a minor thing would stop Jacob if he'd been determined to rape her is absurd to us, but not to her. Even now she is still clinging to logic and reason that persuade her to think of that dog as someone not capable of such an atrocity. That he could be made to see reason in insanity, when the truth is anything but. The Jacob I had torn off Charlie only a short time ago would not have adhered to reason and logic, nor would he have allowed himself to be held back by something he would consider only a mild deterrent at best.

"He stopped, he stood up...went to the other side of the room." Her eyes unfocus as she looks back into her hazy memories. I don't need Jasper's thoughts that are sudden and choked with rage to tell me of her pain. Her eyes are deep pools of it, drowning Carlisle and I both. "And then...my Dad..."

_Perhaps Charile came back in time to intervene, but Rohypnol creates such vast holes in the human memory and comprehension. The fact that she can't even complete her own thoughts...No. I simply cannot trust her beliefs. The probability of severe vaginal tearing and possible cervical damage is just too high. I must do the examination._

The pain I will cause that dog if Bella has suffered those injuries...I will tear off his genitals while he watches and stuff them down his...

"Where is my Dad? Where is he?" Bella's tone is still dazed from Jasper and from the drug, but still the fear she feels is pushing it all away. Through Carlisle's eyes I watch panic overtake her. She struggles to sit up and as Carlisle reaches to steady her and keep her from harming herself in the attempt, she flinches back from him violently. One of her shoulders smacks hard against the examining light that is attached to the table and she instantly flinches away from it as well, forcing Carlisle to attempt to restrain her. His touch, though gentle, makes her recoil and curl in herself whimpering in pain and fear, and I can't take anymore.

"Jasper, do something, for the love of God, please." My voice is not loud, it doesn't need to be. The pressure I'm putting against the door cracks the frame.

I feel his thoughts steady at my demand, feel the sudden and intense wave he directs at her that completely surrounds her fear and dissolves it in a rush so powerful even I am stunned. As Bella slips under his influence completely, I speak to Carlisle.

"No more. You know her memory can't be trusted, Carlisle. Do what you need to do."

His thoughts fall into iron resolve and his eyes close completely, blocking her from my sight. _Go then, Edward. She wouldn't want you to see her now, not like this. Monitor the wolves. We need to know what they want, why they are watching. Only you can tell us for sure._

**Bella's POV**

_I know Jasper is controlling my emotions. I'm floating somewhere in between everything. I can feel Carlisle's hands, but I won't focus on that. It's more than I can take just knowing what he's doing and why he's doing it. And then suddenly I'm numb. A cloud of detachment floats over me like a blanket. I try to push it away, but it's so heavy, and almost welcome. A part of me wants to go underneath its comforting waves. Another part of me is terrified at the thought. Then there is darkness, consuming, dragging me under, and it no longer matters what I might want. I try to scream, but no one hears._

When I open my eyes again, the room is quiet. My wrist is in a brace, which rests in a dark blue sling, cradled to my chest. My ribs still hurt, though not as much. I can feel and taste the odd hiss of plastic flavoured oxygen through the tubes that nestle in my nose. For a second I think of James and the ballet studio, but then I remember. And the memory in my mind now is so much worse.

_Jacob. How could you do this to me?_

I try to move. My brain feels slightly disconnected and I know there's a reason, but I don't remember what it is. My body responds only grudgingly, each inch of success filled with pains that I can't even begin to count. I feel battered.

"Bella, don't move." A cold hand steadies me and guides me back down carefully. Carlisle. I feel like I need to ask him something, something important, but it won't come to me. "You have two severely fractured ribs and a fractured wrist, Bella. Not to mention multiple bruises and swelling, especially on your back. Because of the ribs you need to be more cautious when you move, okay?"

I manage to nod, though it makes me dizzy. "Carlisle, I need to...use the washroom." My voice is raspy and my mouth feels full of cotton.

"Here," he replies, his voice gentle as he helps me sit up. Carefully he guides my legs to the edge of the examining table. He starts to take my arms and then suddenly, Edward is there.

"I've got her, Carlisle." His voice is velvet soft and soothing, and he lifts me with such tenderness and care. I can feel tears beginning to burn behind my eyes.

"I can walk, Edward," I whisper over the burning, tight restriction in my throat. It hurts to talk or to even move my jaw.

"Yes, but why deny me the pleasure of carrying you?" He's trying to keep his tone light, almost teasing, but the sadness in his eyes overrides his ability to pull it off.

He carries me out of, what I realize is Carlisle's private office at the hospital, while my mind tries to fill in the blanks. I realize I don't remember how I got here. Pausing in front of the door marked Ladies; he sets me gently on my feet.

He hands me a small black case that I recognize from home. It's the one I normally keep all my toiletries in. I can see the necessities I currently need, placed neatly inside. For some reason his thoughtfulness, his attention to detail, brings an intense lump to my throat and new fresh tears to my eyes. I blink them back forcefully. How will I survive if he leaves me again? And how can I ask him to stay if he decides he can't bear to be with me after this?

"Will you be okay? Should I come in with you?" His eyes search mine.

"No, no, I'm fine." He looks hesitant, reluctant to believe me, and I turn faster than I should to hurry through the door before he can respond. I desperately need a moment to myself. A second to breathe, to try and put a few of the pieces in my head in the right order.

I make my way to the sink feeling awkward and clumsy, as though I'm walking through water and sand. I feel so sluggish and heavy, like waking up in the middle of the night. Ignoring the mirror, I turn the tap on full and cold, and place my wrist beneath it. The water spills over a bruise and pours down my fingertips, which feel abraded and raw. More than a few of my fingernails are broken and jagged. The water splashes down into the sink and swirls around the shiny chrome drain in an almost mesmerizing circle. My thoughts spin with it and I struggle to focus. It seems like a lost cause.

**Edward POV**

I move down the hall restlessly and make my way to the window. The parking lot remains dark and deserted. Carlisle has turned some of the lights back on in order not to alarm the few on duty, hospital security, personnel. Forks is not a major place of crime. It is unlikely that they would even notice. However Carlisle, like all of us, has learned to be overly cautious. I can hear him now, on the phone with Esme and his half of the conversation seems to relay that they've seen nothing to cause alarm. Jacob has been taken into the Reservation and has not come out.

I turn my attention back to the wolves who've been watching us since we arrived.

I can hear them in my mind. They're restless and watchful, but their thoughts are also in the pack mentality. Cohesive and thinking in terms of one and not as individuals, it makes it almost impossible to separate them into distinct voices or to fully discern their motives. They seem focused on remaining watchful, on their surroundings and the images they can see and smell. They are deep within instinct, more animal than human. I sense that they are hiding something, but cannot pick up on any one thing that stands out or gives them away. Other than the directive to watch that they all seem to be under, there are no other thoughts clear enough to read.

Emmett growls low in his throat from his position by the other window. He's irritated by their closeness, eager for action and the chance to fight. He is not one to be still or to wait for things to come to him. Something has threatened his family and Emmett is a fighter. The waiting is torturous and his thoughts batter me.

Jasper is no better. Quieter and more reserved in nature, he is nevertheless trained to fight, to defend as well. Being away from Alice is making him edgy, and the violent energy and thoughts that he exudes do nothing to calm my own mind.

I listen for Charlie and hear nothing. I search harder, pushing all the other voices away. The nurse turning the corner in the next corridor, thinking of a patient and the relative she finds abrasive. The cleaning lady in an adjacent office who hates her job, her life, her good for nothing husband. A patient a floor above who wonders what life could have been, if he'd married another woman. Carlisle and his thoughts of Bella, his ongoing conversation with Esme. The wolves and their relentless images of trees and the smell of wet, pungent earth. I push harder until it all fades. It will only be a matter of time until I must tell Bella about her Father. If I can find some good in all this bad, I will tear down walls to reach it. I shove the outside distraction of voices away and search harder for Charlie, my focus absolute.

**Bella's POV**

I turn off the water and I realize I'm wearing different clothes. My favourite black sweat pants, my white T-shirt with the words Arizona Heat in block orange lettering. The sun in the corner of the word has faded a bit with time and washing, and the paleness of it seems fitting. My matching black zip up sweater was on the chair by the door. I remember passing it as Edward carried me out of the room. I wonder who dressed me and a sudden image of Jacob tearing at my blouse flashes in my mind. The blue blouse I'd worn for Edward.

I feel suddenly sick, lightheaded, and I clutch at the sink with my only hand. For a second I'm tempted to call Edward. I need his arms around me, to hear him tell me it's okay. But I know he can't do that. It isn't okay and I'm afraid of how he'll look at me, at what I might see in his eyes. I get my feet moving and just try to keep my thoughts empty. I need to pee and it isn't going to be easy with the pain flaring through my side and back every time I move. I reach out for the stall door and a noise behind me, like something scraping inward, sounds out of place. I turn towards it, trying to be careful, trying to move slowly so that the nauseating spins don't return. I catch him just at the corner of my eye.

Sam Uley.

His arm grabs my shoulder, spins me around, and his other hand clamps over my mouth. Something soft and sickeningly sweet invades my throat and blooms in my head. Everything goes dark.

**Edwards POV**

The night explodes, suddenly and without warning. I can hear Carlisle, his voice changing from a soft hum of interrogation to an exclamation of alarm. Emmett's thoughts and words follow his.

"I see two wolves coming from the South corner, fast."

"Two more coming from the north." Jasper hisses and turns as Carlisle comes through the door, calling Esme's name, his cell phone still pressed to his ear.

The wolves' thoughts, individual and decisive suddenly pummel me from all sides. A confusing mass of confrontation. I can't sort them out.

As one, Jasper, Emmett and I fly through the door. The parking lot lights go out, and I hear Carlisle's thoughts, warning me loudly. _Watch them, Edward. Something isn't right. _

Darkness falls over the silhouettes of the racing wolves. They stop in the deepest shadows, just outside of the hospital grounds. I can see their shapes, shifting, swaying, as they begin to pace. Embry, Quil, Paul, Brady. Again their thoughts are evasive, only now there is a mocking edge to them, as though they know I cannot read them clearly.

Growling low, I begin to stalk them. Finally, I have a target for my rage and I let it unfurl while Emmett and Jasper fall in behind me. A niggling sense of wrongness invades my resolve. The wolves are being too wary, staying to far back. It's almost as though their mad dash was nothing more than a bluff.

A distraction.

_Bella._

Spinning, using all of my speed, I launch myself back through the door. Carlisle is just ahead of me, his thoughts mirroring my own.

It's too late. I don't need to see the empty room in front of me to know it. I can hear the thoughts and see the images Sam Uley no longer guards. A truck already speeding from the North lot, the road fixed in his mind, Bella slumped in the seat beside him.

The wolves outside turn as one and vanish with unearthly speed back into the woods, swallowed up once again by the dark.

Jasper and Emmett appear in the door, silent, their rage palpable and their expressions cold.

"My call with Esme was disconnected. I have no idea what is happening." Carlisle turns to Jasper. "Empty the safe in my office. Emmett, take this phone, keep trying to reach the girls." He turns to me where I still stand frozen in place, locked in my own personal hell.

"Edward, stay focused son we..." The ringing of my cell cuts him off. I tear it from my pocket already sensing who it is.

"Edward." He sounds wary and angry. Just my name alone rings with whatever determination and conviction that has caused him to have signed his own death warrant.

All my focus returns, the ice cold rage once again grounding me. "Sam. You've taken something that belongs to me. You understand what this means?"

Laughter, dry and without humour. "She's human still. Which means she doesn't belong to you, vampire. Did you really think we would let you have her? Your arrogance is astounding."

"If you harm her..."

"Don't be ridiculous." His tone drips with scorn. "To the North of the Quileute border is a small clearing. Neutral ground. We're waiting."

The line disconnects abruptly, and with it, the last link of my self control vanishes in a haze of blood red fire that takes over my vision.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 Circle of Fire

**Bella's POV**

I am surrounded by a circle of fire. Perfectly concentric and large, spanning almost the entire clearing. The eerie flames dance and contort before my eyes, stinging when the air shifts and sending sweet scented smoke my way. Sue Clearwater moves quickly around the inside edge, throwing handfuls of dried grass and dozens of herbs and dried flowers into the flames. Two young Quileute girls I don't recognize, move in perfect synchronization with her every footstep. Mimicking her actions, they match each toss with soft, sighing words, spoken in the Quileute dialogue. Each handful ignites with a hissing snap and crackle, carrying the scents higher and higher above my head in dancing realms of white gray smoke. Their chanting sing-song voices are hypnotic and oddly soothing.

The fed flames leap into the dark night, illuminating the faces inside the circle, and the wolves that pace with increasing hostility outside. Shadows leap and writhe to create masks over the faces of men I should know, turning them into strangers. Billy Black, silent and watchful in his chair in the center. Old Quil, still powerful looking despite his age, standing at Billy's right, a long, bone white staff held upright at his side. Sam Uley, still in human form, crouched down only a few feet from me and watching his pack through the ever dancing flames. Orange, flickering light chases the shadows away, only to recede once again so the shadows return.

The wind picks up, blowing the heat from the flames back against my face and my bare arms. I feel as though my blood has turned to ice water and each violent new tremor sends spasms of pain arcing from a dozen tortured points on my body. My head hurts in a pulsing throb that will not relent; my mouth feels full of cotton, my throat painfully dry. The discomfort in my body is nothing compared to the fear in my mind.

My head is resting on Emily Young's lap, a blanket around my waist. She draws it up farther, covering my shoulders before resuming her gentle caress over my hair. Although she's refused to answer any of my questions, her touch is still oddly comforting. The scarred side of her face seems to swallow the light from the fire.

The effects of whatever drug Sam had used to get me here are still lingering. A nauseating aftermath that has required the use of the small bowl at my side. Throwing up with broken ribs is a very unpleasant ordeal and I fight back a new wave with fearful determination. I don't mean to, but I must make some noise, a whimper of discomfort maybe, because I can hear Alice hissing in frustrated anger. She's done it every time I've shown my pain, and I fight harder to be still and silent.

She's too close to the fire as it is, and I know she's felt the flames, know she's hurt herself trying to get to me. Even through the blaze, I can see the odd looking streaks that mar her otherwise perfect, ivory skin. Black with soot, the marble like skin underneath looks melted and strangely blistered. The Elders and the wolves have thought this out carefully. Fire is the one thing guaranteed to halt a vampire in their tracks. Esme and Rosalie prowl restlessly back and forth, never far from me either.

Two wolves quietly watch their every movement, unnaturally still just outside of the impenetrable dark wall of the woods. Two more wolves lurk nearby, keeping them penned in like sheep in a coral. The only reason Alice, Rosalie and Esme have, up to this point, remained relatively calm is because of the promises that Sue Clearwater has made them. One, that I won't be harmed in any way, and two, that everything will be explained when the rest of the Cullens arrive. Including, of course, Edward. Alice is becoming less and less content with waiting. I need to be stronger than this, more in control. It's the only way to prevent this from becoming a blood shedding war. Three vampires against eight werewolves are odds I won't gamble with.

Another small gust of wind blows more smoke in our direction briefly before swirling it away again. They've thought out everything it would seem. Despite being surrounded by the fire, we are not being suffocated by the smoke. The location of this clearing is high enough that the wind swirls up the hillside around us and carries the smoke high over our heads. The small trace that reaches me is sweet scented, but the combination seems to be adding to Alice, Esme and Rosalie's stress. I have no idea why. They wrinkle their noses repeatedly and hiss whenever it blows towards them, becoming more agitated each time.

Alice turns her head and looks to the West. She's done so repeatedly, cocking her head as though listening. I wonder when Edward will get here and the need to see him combines with my fear for all of them. As though she reads my mind, Alice turns back to me, her eyes burning through the smoke and flame. She takes another step closer, hissing at the heat. One of the wolves rises from its haunches and growls in warning, a low threatening sound that resembles stone grating over steel. Embry. I'm almost positive. He's all but vibrating beneath his thick fur, spoiling for a fight.

Sam snorts, shaking his head and rising slowly to his feet. "You are a stubborn thing aren't you, Alice Cullen. You're not coming in, stop torturing yourself."

Her eyes snap to him and she bares her teeth. Nothing about this Alice resembles my friend, my sweet, pixie like sister in law to be. The colour of her eyes is blacker than midnight, and she narrows them to slits. If I didn't know the true nature of her soul, I would be terrified of her.

"Sam Uley, your days are numbered. Whatever the outcome of this _meeting_." She spits out the word meeting with such vile force it seems to echo in my ears. The stress makes the nausea worse and I close my eyes and swallow repeatedly.

Emily speaks to Sam, her voice quiet. I know only a very few Quileute words but I think I catch the word water, and no sooner do I think I'm correct than Sam is crouching before me. A water bottle in his hand. He takes off the cap and hands it to her.

"Here, Bella. Just a little, please."

I turn my face away. Despite my dry throat and mouth, the water holds no appeal. My stomach lurches at even the thought of drinking.

"Can't you see how sick she is? How could you take her from Carlisle? She needs medical treatment."

"I'm okay, Alice." My voice is hoarse, roughened by smoke and dryness. The best I can manage is a whisper but she hears me clearly.

"Bella, oh, Bella. I'm so sorry." She growls again and sinks down to her knees, much too close. The heat must be scorching.

"Alice, please. Go back... don't hurt yourself. I'm...okay, really."

"Do you hear her? She can hardly breathe. Emily, she needs oxygen, this smoke is making it harder for her." Alice's tone is pleading, her expression changing from anger and fear, to one almost cajoling. "You know this is wrong. What would you do, Emily Young, if someone were to try and take _you_ from Sam?"

At the mention of his name, he stands and turns fully to face Alice. "Do not speak to her, do you understand? Threaten me if you want, but never address her."

Alice laughs, the sound dark and shocking. "And you, Sam? What would you do I wonder, if someone were to take _her_ away from you?"

Instantly, the wolves move threateningly closer, the rough snarls they admit a clear warning. Sam merely smiles without humour and holds his hand up in a silent command. The growling stops immediately. He steps closer to the fire's edge. The flames have receded somewhat, now only a few feet high that Sue and her chanting followers seem to be taking a break from their efforts.

"Be careful, Vampire. My patience is thin."

"It's you, Sam Uley, who should be careful. What you feel for your Emily is only one tenth of the emotion that my brother has for Bella. You have no idea what you've begun here." She smiles, rising in a fluid motion before melting back in to the shadows slowly, like a spectre. Her voice drifts forward, tainted with dark promise. "You're a fool to underestimate Edward. You haven't any idea what he's capable of. But I do. If you believe in a God werewolf, now would be the time to pray for mercy. Perhaps he'll grant you some..." Her soft, menacing laughter makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "Because I promise you," she murmurs in that same quiescent, terrifying voice. "Edward will not."

**Edwards POV**

"What I want to know," Emmett growls, "Is how the hell they could block you, Edward?"

It's taken only minutes to reach the Reservation border. Emmett leaves the road, the Jeeps tires digging and tearing into the wet ground, spinning chunks of mud up to splatter the windshield. He manoeuvres the vehicle as far into the woods as possible, narrowly avoiding several large trees.

"Not blocking, evading. They've been focusing on surrounding images, using the pack mentality and their animal senses to keep me from seeing their plans. I can't read what they don't think, Emmett." I know he's angry. Neither Rosalie, Alice or Esme have responded to repeated calls to their cell phones. His anger is laced with his fear. I don't have room for fear. My anger is all consuming. That I'd allowed myself to be so distracted in the hospital that I hadn't picked up on Sam Uley's entrance and plans festers in my mind, the failure compounded by all the others I've made this day. I won't make the same mistake twice.

The jeep lurches to a stop between two Red Cedars, branches scraping against the hood. We're gone and moving through the night before they stop moving. As always, its only minutes before I leave them behind, and I make no effort to curb my speed. The closer I get, the more I will know.

The first thoughts hit me only two miles outside of the clearing.

_We know you're close, Vampire, we can smell your stench_. The collective minds of the wolves are the first thoughts I catch. Close enough now that I can hear them erupting in low throated growls. I can read their restless energy and excitement. They are eager for this confrontation but their thoughts once again remain in the present, giving nothing away of what has brought us here. More thoughts enter my mind and I ignore none of them, filtering quickly, my concentration absolute.

_Alice, Esme, Rosalie. A frenetic mix of anger and fear laced with frustration. Images of Bella, pale and still. A circle of fire._

_Bella is unharmed._ Alice keeps the chant up in her mind, but I can see all she sees and I can hear her furious mentations. Unharmed means nothing.

Billy Black, Sam Uley, Old Quil, Sue Clearwater. Their thoughts are the same. _We will not let you have her._

_As if they could stop me..._

I tilt my head back, and inhale the night. Douglas fir, Cedar, soaking grass, and moist soil, animal matter both alive and dead, vegetation, pungent and fresh. Smoke. Tinged with a sickening sweetness that invades my head and burns deep in my sinus cavity. Cinquefoil, St. John's Wort, Nightshade, Blackberry, Garlic, Fern. Each plant alone is harmless. Combined they create a powerful scent that irritates any sentient creature with heightened smell, and a mystical and powerful deterrent to evil spirits. If I had the capacity to be amused at this point it would happen now. I do not have the capacity.

I inhale again and find what I'm looking for. The perfect scent of Bella's blood. My throat erupts in exquisite flame and burns all else away. As Carlisle, Emmett and Jasper arrive at my side; I speak to them quietly, every word sliding from a mouth drenched in venom.

"Esme, Rosalie and Alice are unharmed. The Tribe Elders are holding Bella. They are waiting for us."

**Bella's POV**

I pull away from Emily and sit up with only a small amount of assistance. The blanket falls away and the shivering gets worse, but I ignore it. I feel like Edward is close and I want to be on my feet when he gets here, though it's easier said than done. Everything hurts, and waves of nauseating vertigo bring tears to my eyes. Alice is once again to close too the flames, her eyes imploring me.

"Bella, please, lay back down."

I get my feet under me, though just barely, and my knees buckle, threatening to send me back down. Sam's iron hard, burning hand catches my elbow, steadying me. Alice hisses in displeasure and steps almost completely into the encircling blaze. I literally see the white skin of her arm sizzle and smoke.

"Alice! No!" She's driven back once again by the intense heat and the wolf I'm almost certain is Embry, slinks closer, growling. His body is close to the ground, in a perfect position to spring. She growls back and Rose and Esme instantly flank her on either side, instinctively drawing her farther away from the circle.

The sound of chains clinking together pulls my gaze like a magnet; though I would wish for any other sight then the one I know will still greet me. I've known he was there from the first moment my eyes had opened.

Jacob. The shackled wrists and feet, the impossibly thick chains that bind them together, do nothing to detract from the violent energy that seems to emanate from his huddled form. He keeps his head down, but the occasional tremor that wracks his body tells me he is awake now. The tree at his back is massive and despite the chains, and it, I keep expecting him to get up. I know that Sam has given him an Alpha command. He cannot change to his wolf form. He is outside of the circle, almost directly behind it, virtually unprotected save for Seth and Leah Clearwater who have not once left his side. Leah, restless, and oddly beautiful in her wolf form paces back and forth and around the tree, as though she's following the links in the chains. Seth in comparison remains perfectly still, sitting just to the right of Jacob. His eyes are the only thing that moves, and something about the angle of his head speaks volumes of his unhappiness. As though he senses my gaze, he turns his head to face me and whines low and high pitched as though in apology. I know he has no choice but to obey the Pack, and still, it breaks my heart to know that he has played a part in this.

Sue Clearwater and the two young girls suddenly resume their former tasks with the dried plants and the flames leap and spike, obscuring my view. Just before the flaring reaches its highest point, I see him lift his head and look directly at me. His eyes are like two black holes, filled with a burning heat that makes the fire feel cold in comparison. Dark, red welts streak his chest and shoulder with blood, and the expression on his face is haunted. The flames leap higher still, and then I can't see him anymore. Silence falls over everyone present, and I turn back to the front and follow the path that has drawn their attention.

Edward.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and my heart begins to race violently in my chest as they glide from the break of trees. Emerging from the impenetrable darkness, the speed and sinuous grace with which they move is unbearably beautiful and terrifying. Carlisle, Jasper and Emmett fall back, moving farther to the side until they all come to a standstill only feet from the circle. Spaced evenly and strategically apart, they effectively block the only way out. With nothing behind the circle but jagged cliffs overlooking the ocean, their stance conveys a very clear message. Esme, Alice, and Rosalie appear in the empty spaces, like the final pieces of a chain falling into place. The wall is complete, and their intent shows in their perfect still silence. They will do whatever it takes to get me home.

The Elders move to stand in a line as well, only close together, as though to show their unity. Old Quil has begun to tap the bone white staff against the ground in a rhythmic pattern, hard enough I can feel the small vibration against the soles of my feet. His arm shakes and tightens with each jarring impact, and the sound the staff makes when it hits the ground resembles a heartbeat, echoing from the earth. Moist, wet dirt swallows back the force of each blow, muting the resonation. The girls kneel behind Sue; they seem to be praying and they sprinkle more herbs on the ground around them.

The wolves move as well, with quiet gracility, all the more lethal appearing in its beauty. Eight wolves spanning the remaining distance of the circle, muscles bunching and rippling beneath silken coats. The fire light flashes in their eyes over glistening teeth bared in silent threat.

The Cullen's watch with faces cold and emotionless, and when finally everyone is still, Edwards's eyes find me and I can barely breathe. His expression turns murderous.

Old Quil pounds the staff one last time and the sound echoes, once, twice, and then falls to silence. The only sound now is the crackling of the flames.

**Edwards POV**

Bella is on her feet, but just barely. I can see the toll this night has taken, reflecting from her face and the lines of her body. What I had seen in Alice's thoughts only a pale reflection of this reality. There is nothing left of my heart to break.

Cold rage slides through my being as I turn to face the Elders of the Quileute Tribe.

"Be still, Edward Cullen. Now is not the time for rage or war. Enough harm has been done this night." Billy Black leans forward from his wheelchair, glaring a warning through the dancing flames.

Carlisle's voice carries coldly through the clearing, his eyes narrowing. "The harm you speak of, Billy Black, has been done by one of your own. And now, you compound that harm by taking one of mine? The very one who has already suffered the most? I have never seen Carlisle's thoughts so black. "Tell us then. If this is not the time for rage or war, what is it the time for? Because you must know, we will not simply turn and walk away from this."

Soft snarls escape the throats of several wolves, but no one moves. Billy keeps his eyes on me, though he answers Carlisle's question. "Now is the time for discussion. A chance perhaps to explain and put the wrongs to rest." His eyes penetrate deeper into mine, "You've begun a process that threatens our treaty and now we have to stop you. You can choose to listen to our terms and end this peacefully or..." He gestures to the outside of the circle and the wolves lean menacingly forward. All but one. I catch Seth Clearwater's thoughts at the edge of my mind.

_Please, Edward, don't do this. I swear with my own life Bella will be safe. Don't turn this to bloodshed. No one can win._

The sound of chains rasping over one another draws my attention and I hiss furiously as Jacob Black raises his head and glares at me with intensifying hatred. It's all I can do not to leap through the flames and race to the other side of the circle and beyond. His death will be mercifully swift as I will have no time to draw it out. I am willing to be satisfied with that.

_Bella could get hurt, Edward. Don't do anything impulsive. _I can see the sudden images spiralling from Alice's mind. Not a true vision as her gift remains blocked by the unseen futures of the wolf pack. What she shows me is nothing more than speculation and possibility, but it's enough to stop me.

_The clearing erupting in fighting at my actions, Bella trying to move from the circle, finding an opening in the flames where Emmett and the wolf Embry are locked in battle. She stumbles and one misdirected swipe of powerful, razor sharp claws ends her life immediately._

If all hell breaks loose it will be too dangerous for Bella. I must keep the situation contained, no matter the cost.

My hands ball into fists as I turn my head to drink in the sight of her, still standing, battered and trembling but alive. She sinks to her knees under my gaze, her expression clearly pleading with me to stay calm, to not do anything rash. Her lips tremble once and then firm. Her strength solidifies my own.

"There is no explaining this wrong, and the only way you can ever right it is to give me your son's dog head on a platter, Billy Black." I point to where Jacob sits, still glaring. His hatred for me is the only clear thought in his mind, everything else a confusing knot of emptiness and fear. He doesn't understand what is happening, but I am just beginning to.

"Or is it his head I really want?" My eyes skim over each of the Elders, reading their minds now like open books full of dirty secrets. I can see some of the steps they've taken that have brought us here, and my rage continues to escalate with each passing second. I am dangerously close to losing control.

Billy shakes his head sadly. "No, Edward Cullen. My son is not to blame for all of this, and you know that now. If I thought it would help, I would offer my own life in reparation."

"Offer it," I growl, moving forward, almost blind by my need to tear his life away.

Old Quil steps closer to the circle's edge, away from the others and spits in my direction. "Did you really think we wouldn't try to save an innocent child from the hell you would condemn her too?" he cries. "A death worse than death? You forced our hand and you can blame no one but yourself for the mess it's created."

My gaze turns on him and he steps back, frightened despite his own anger. The wolves growl and begin to shift in restless and energized instinct. Most of them are more than ready for this fight, to do what they believe they were created to do. Destroy vampires. Whatever fragile peace we'd forged is disintegrating rapidly.

Alice's imaginings are once again showing me the cost may be too high for me to allow this to escalate further. My only goal now can be Bella and the need to see her safely away from this nightmare.

In an effort to buy time and divert the agitated wolves, I point to Billy. "Tell them," I gesture to my family and then to Bella. "Tell _her _what you've done. Make your peace, Quileute Tribal Leaders, if you can."

**Bella's POV**

Billy moves his chair, trying to turn it through the soft, sucking, wet earth, towards me. The flames at my back resonate waves of heat that do nothing to ease the chill that continues to torment me with bouts of endless shivering. I know it has nothing to do with the cold, and everything to do with the sadness in his eyes and face.

Sue Clearwater looks at me, then away, her shoulders falling. Sam Uley moves to stand beside Emily and to whisper something in her ear. She shakes her head at him and a tear slides down her cheek. Old Quil stands ramrod straight and glaring, though something nameless passes over his eyes when he looks at me. Like Sue he cannot hold the stare.

Finally Billy, unaided, makes his way to me. "You are the daughter of my best friend, Bella," he says quietly. "I never got to watch you grow up, but a part of me has always loved you. When I saw the way the winds were shifting for your life, I tried to warn you. I had hoped that Jacob and you..."

I almost gag at the mention of Jacob and tears well in my eyes then evaporate in the dry heat of the fire. He shakes his head, obviously pained at my expression. "I would have welcomed you, loved you, been honoured to have you as my daughter."

"Billy, please." I don't know what I'm pleading for. For him to stop, for him to get this over with, for him to stop speaking of Jacob. My heart aches and I want this to be over with, I need for all of this to be over with. I can't help but look for Edward. He's moved closer and his eyes close at my glance, and then open again, full of pain for me.

"If you go through with your plan to marry Edward. If you change...become a...Cullen." His hand rakes through his hair then over his face. "The treaty will be broken, Bella. We will have no choice but to act. Blood will be shed on both sides. We needed to act. To try and prevent this from happening."

"Tell her all of it." Edwards's voice is dark with anger.

Billy reaches out and touches the bruise on my jaw. I flinch and pull away, not wanting him to touch me. "Say what you need to, Billy." My voice sounds choked.

"We held a council, made a decision. In order to avoid the repercussions that would come with your change we decided we had to separate you from the Cullens. We needed to be certain that the choice to end your life was your own, and not the influence of things outside of your control. I wanted to save my best friend's daughter."

"How could you ever think that it wasn't my choice, Billy? You know, better than most what I have to give up. What I _have_ given up for this to happen...How could you..."

"I _could_ because it's what I have to do, child. My responsibilities are heavy, and should Edward change you and the treaty breaks...? Our Quileute children are the ones who must pay, possibly with their lives. That is the very nature of the werewolf, vampire existence. The peace between us here is unique, not something to be taken lightly. Once it is broken there is no turning back, Bella. Not for us, and not for you. Can you understand the responsibility that binds me, that binds us as the Tribe Elders?"

"And the fact that it _is_ my choice? Does...that matter...at all?" My throat is tight with unshed tears and my lungs can't get enough air. Each word and inhalation spikes bolts of red hot pain down my side. The wind is shifting and the smoke seems thicker now, though no one else seems bothered by it. "The treaty specifies that the Cullen's cannot bite or change a human...but this...is different...and you know it. I will...be Edwards...wife, this isn't random...violence or feeding...it's..."

"Easy breaths, Bella. Even and slow, okay?" Emily gives a blistering look to Billy. "She needs care, Billy. This is wrong, you know it is."

"Be still, Emily," Sue hisses. I can see Emily's spine straighten, see Sam's hand tighten around her shoulder as though in warning, but I still don't understand any of this.

Billy continues as though the interruption never happened. "The treaty doesn't specify choice, Bella. As long as you remain human the treaty remains firm. The second you cease to be...we will have to act, and we couldn't allow that to happen without trying to stop it."

"How?" I ask in a soft voice, not sure I want to know. I can see Carlisle moving to stand closer to Edward, his face no longer cold, but concerned. I feel sick and shaky, and a clammy sweat breaks out over my skin. Not even the dry heat of the flames stops the slickness that makes me shiver harder.

"This has gone too far, Elders," Carlisle spits out angrily. "Give me my daughter, let me care for her. This fragile state she is in is dangerous."

Sue Clearwater grunts in anger, pointing at Carlisle. "She is Charlie Swans daughter, Vampire!"

"Yes, and now mine as well, woman. You would be wise to remember that." Carlisle snaps back. I've never seen him lose his patience before.

Edward snarls, and moves closer, frustration burning in his eyes. Sam moves away from Emily, shoving her back, and the wolves once again become agitated. I can see two of them moving closer on the far right side, their movements almost herding Jasper and Alice closer to the center.

"Stop," I cry, holding up my hand to Edward and Carlisle. "I'm okay, please...just...I'm okay." I manage a few deeper breaths and strive for calm. "Tell me all of it, Billy. Tell me what you did?"

"We set up this entire night, Bella, but something went horribly wrong." Billy closes his eyes and sighs.

Edward's voice is cold, almost alien and the words he speaks come out harshly. "Tell her."

"We planned for Jacob to bring you onto the Reservation where we would keep you away from Edward and the rest of his family. Jacob was supposed to lure you there, but he didn't feel he could, not with the way your relationship with him has been. So Sam and Quil were supposed to wait for a sign if he needed help, if you refused to go with him. No one would have hurt you, Bella. I swear to you, you were never supposed to be harmed."

Edward makes a hissing noise of disdain at this. "But Jacob didn't trust your plan, did he, Billy?" he asks angrily.

Billy winces and shifts in his chair. He turns as though seeking reassurance in the sight of his son, still chained and quiet. His head is down again. "No, he didn't. He decided he needed something more; a way to guarantee your cooperation. So he put something in the wine, something to drug you, but again, something went wrong."

"I never drank the wine, Billy", I whisper sadly. "But Jacob did. He drank both bottles, so quickly. I tried to stop him...but...it was too... late. And then he seemed to change...he seemed to...lose...control." Pressing my hand to my chest a sob tears out of my throat and I whimper as the muscles in my diaphragm contract and jar against my ribcage. My fingers move to my mouth and I cringe as I remember the bruising strength and taste of Jacobs forced kissing. The way his mouth had seemed full of wine, the taste had been so strong and overpowering. The tingling numbness, the dizziness. I can hear Carlisle's words echoing in my mind.

"_Bella, you've been under the influence of a drug. It's called Rohypnol. Do you know what that is?"_

"Jacob has been struggling since he found out about your plans to marry Edward, Bella. He's been having trouble sleeping, controlling his temper. Giving in more and more to the werewolf instinct that governs him." Billy's expression is grim, but his eyes are pleading with me, begging me to understand. "He's been drinking, taking sleeping pills, but nothing seems to have much effect on him. His metabolism races at such an increased rate he burns everything off before it has a chance to work. He would have thought the wine, the drug, wouldn't touch him. I know my son, Bella. _You_ know him. He isn't capable of this on his own. Please..."

I feel numb and terrifyingly alone, and I shake my head violently at Billy, needing him to stop. The echo of a gunshot shifts through a dark corner of my consciousness.

He jerks his chair around away from me, and turns to fully face Edward. "We will amend the Treaty between your family and the Quileute to allow for Bella's change. The Pack will take no action against you, or your family. In return, Edward Cullen, I ask you for my son's life. Give me your word and we'll release Bella from the circle."

Edward moves with frightening speed. One moment he's standing outside the circle and the next he's inside, having crossed through the flames as if they didn't exist. Black streaks, already welting up in those strange, melting blisters, mar the perfect white skin of his arms and around his throat where the flames had leapt up at his passing. His clothing smokes and his dark enraged eyes burn from his perfect features, an avenging angel crossing through hell. In one fluid movement he bends and lifts me from the ground, cradling me like a broken china doll. I can hear the wolves snarling, the returning growling hiss of Carlisle, Jasper, Emmett, Alice, Rosalie, and Esme as the Pack reacts to Edwards actions.

In a voice so laced with darkness I don't even recognize it, he speaks loudly. "I agree to your terms, Elders of the Quileute tribe, but understand this. There is no Circle of Fire, no spell or magic that will ever bind me, nor will the slate of my memory ever be wiped clean of this night. I will spare the life of your son, Billy Black, in return for the offer you've made. For the sake of my family and for her, because she is my life and the conscience that governs me, now and always. Were it up to me, I would drench this ground in the steaming reek of Wolf blood. Never let your son cross my path, or hers, again. Or I promise you. I will wallow in his blood while I kill him, slowly."

A deafening crack splits the air and Edward steps casually aside as a large boulder smashes down on the flames at the front of the circle, smothering them. Emmett crouches on the edge, watchful and waiting. With one sudden lunge Edward and I are standing on the top. The fire on either side blazes higher, licking at the gray stone as though in enraged retaliation.

Edward turns one last time and glares down at Sam. "You and I will meet again, Sam Uley. Count on it."

And then there is nothing but the wind whistling through my ears and the blurring rush of passing trees. I close my eyes and bury my face in Edwards's neck.

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**A/N Quite a bit to absorb here, lol. Feel free to ask questions and leave me reviews. I love reviews =P **

**Aleea**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 Fractured 

**Edward's POV**

I have to stop twice on the way back to the Jeep, though the short trip only takes less than 15 minutes. Carlisle kneels on the other side of Bella the second time, and presses a gentle hand to her side. Closing his eyes, his thoughts follow the path of his senses. He can feel her fractured ribs straining with each violent spasm as Bella is repeatedly and painfully sick. She shoves his hand away forcefully at one point, though whether his touch is adding to her pain, or she merely just doesn't want it, is not known. There is nothing in her stomach to bring up, yet still her body forces her to go through the motions until she's sweating and weak.

Jasper returns from where he's been scouting and shakes his head. We are not being followed. I'm almost upset by the fact. I know it won't help Bella, but a chance to tear into someone at this point just might help me. I'm helpless in the face of her suffering and it is only adding to the violence that spins inside my mind. I want retribution, revenge. Having to walk away from that clearing was the most difficult thing I have ever done.

"We should keep moving if we can," Jasper says quietly, his thoughts not unsympathetic, just the opposite. The fact that none of the Pack is following could change at any given moment and he's concerned that any more trauma or confrontation at this point will be more than Bella can handle. Her emotions are clouded by her extreme fatigue, illness and pain, but still her sadness and confusion is assaulting him. He sends a calming wave of emotion her way, and mine, and I nod, grateful for her and myself. Now is not the time to be out of control, she needs my full attention.

I look to Carlisle and he nods as well, rising to his feet. "Sam Uley must have used Halothane on her when he took her from the hospital. She's having a typical reaction, but this vomiting is dangerous. If we get her back to the Jeep I can give her some Prochlorperazine, Edward."

"I'm okay, Edward...we...can go now." Her voice is a mere husk of its former strength, rasping with dryness. Carlisle takes her pulse and then nods at me. His thoughts are clear, concerned but not alarmed.

I slide my arms around her and lift her with every ounce of tenderness and care I can create. Still she stiffens at my touch, a soft, but no less piercing cry escaping through her tightly clenched teeth. I was careful to avoid her ribs, wrist and, as much as possible, her back, but she is reaching the point where any movement is painful. Carlisle's thoughts follow the path of my arm, down to my hand, his mind mapping her injuries, searching for the cause of such a pained cry.

"Be careful of her right hip, Edward." His thoughts show a large, multicoloured bruise that instantly has me shifting my grip. Her fingers clench in my shirt and I quickly begin to move. No touch is going to be perfect at this point. I need to get her to the Jeep, and back to the house where Carlisle can care for her.

Rosalie and Esme fall behind, each of them taking different directions. Together with Emmett, they will stay behind to keep watch and closely monitor the wolves and Elders actions until they return to the Reservation. They will remain at the border and continue to keep watch there as well, at least until I am certain any threat has passed. Alice will not be parted from Bella. She stays only steps behind me the entire way to the jeep, her mind constantly searching for Bella's future. The images are fluid; constantly changing and at this point they paint a picture of her continuing safety. There are other images there as well, ones I cannot contemplate or focus on now. There are things out of my hands and I can only allow the threads to unravel as they may. I have no realm, no power, and no recourse to change what will be.

_You need to tell her, Edward_.

"No."

My words are no louder than the hiss of wind that carries the sound away from Bella's ears, yet the vehemence with which I've spoken silence's Alice immediately. Her mind once again begins seeking, and I know her guilt at not being able to foresee the events of this night are torturing her relentlessly. I have no words of comfort or solace to offer her. I know she can no more control what visions she sees in her mind, anymore than I can control what I hear in the minds of others. I also know this knowledge will give her little peace.

It's only minutes but it feels like hours before we finally reach the Jeep. Bella has begun to tremble in my arms, a reaction from stress and cold that only adds to her pain. Not knowing what to expect, Carlisle had taken frustratingly long minutes back at the hospital to gather supplies. At the time I had been so furious and anxious; his efforts had driven me near to madness for the delay it cost. Now my gratuity is boundless as he pulls out blankets, medical supplies and water.

Bella shifts in my arms, her quick indrawn breath at the movement quickly swallowed in an effort to hide it from me. "Where are we going, Edward?"

"We'll take you back to our house, Carlisle has everything he needs there to take care of you, love. Hush and rest now, it won't be long."

"How long?" Her teeth have begun to chatter.

"Turn the heat on full, Jasper." I turn my head back down to her, fighting not to show anything more in my expression than she needs to see. I have never seen her so pale. Every ounce of color has been leeched from her skin until it is almost transparent. The bruises along her jaw line stand out sharply in comparison, and I can literally trace the fine, blue lines of veins at her temple.

"Not long now, Bella, twenty minutes, at the most." Carlisle has prepared a place to lay her on the back seat, and I move to place her there.

She grimaces slightly, turns her face to my ear. "Wait, Edward. I need to...I need a human moment." she whispers. "I don't think I can wait. I'm sorry." A silent tear slips from her eye and I curse my stupidity, and insensitivity, as I watch it glide down the smooth and frighteningly white curve of her cheek. I should have thought to have given her a moment away from the others to address any human needs she might have. I am failing her at every turn. The absence of her normal reactionary blush makes me more concerned for her fragile state of mind than anything else she could do.

"Shh, love. It's okay, don't be sorry." I take a quick step back away from the Jeep and turn to take her deeper into the woods, where she can have the privacy she needs.

Alice appears at my side a blanket in her arms. "Give her to me, Edward."

I don't want to let her go. The force of the emotion hits me like a runaway freight train. I almost growl at Alice, and the restraint it takes to not do so is shocking. Alice shakes her head as though in warning, and I realize how tenuous the ties of my self control have become. I have no reason to fear for her safety at this point, and I certainly have no cause to subject Bella to any more humiliation. The wolves would not have gotten past Esme, Rose or Emmett. Nor would it seem they could have any further reason to continue on their former path.

"Put me down...I can...walk. I'm okay, Edward."

Clenching my jaw, I do as she asks. Alice wraps the blanket around Bella's shoulders, and keeping her arms securely around her waist she leads her away. Every instinct I have intensely dislikes the sight of her moving away from me. I clench and unclench my fists in helpless anger and anxiety.

**Bella's POV**

Alice kneels beside me and gently wipes a cloth over my face. She's torn a piece of her own shirt to make it, and the water bottle at her side tells me she'd known I was going to throw up again, long before I did. I catch her stone cold fingers in mine and push them away, hating the reaction even as it happens. I don't want her to touch me. Everything hurts and I could use that as an excuse, but it wouldn't be the truth. I feel crowded, tense, and though I know she's trying to help I can't bear the contact. Still, I cling to her hand, even after I've pushed it away. The wet material trapped between our palms feels icy.

"I'm sorry, Bella." Alice's voice is so soft and twisted with remorse I can hardly hear it, but I know her apology is for much more than this moment. I can't think of that now.

"No. I'm sorry,...Alice." I draw in a shallow breath and release it slowly, concentrating on not moving any unnecessary parts of my body. I manage a shaky smile and squeeze her icy hand in mine. "Bet you didn't think you'd...have to do...barf detail tonight."

"Bella..." Her tone is sad, and I quickly cut her off. I don't want sympathy. What I want is to get out of these woods, with all the eerie shadows and the damp smell of rotting vegetation that I can't seem to get out of my nose and throat. I want Edward, and the encircling safety of his arms.

"Help me up...Alice."

A fallen branch snaps beneath my feet as we move, the sound obscenely loud in the lush, surrounding quiet, and I instantly go still. My mind races backwards and I see Jacob, standing over me, the bite of slivers in my palms, the queasy sense of movement where there is none..._Charlie_.

"Alice. Where is Charlie?" Her sudden and perfect stillness sends fear straight to my heart. I feel it stutter. Something is wrong, even more wrong than this whole messed up night. The holes in my memory taunt me.

Slowly, Alice turns to face me, her face an unreadable blank slate. Her eyes search mine and I force myself to hold her gaze and to keep my feet under me, my expression calm. If she see's my panic, gut instinct tells me she will lie.

I will never make a good poker player, but she could win millions. "I don't know where he is right now, Bella." I almost believe her.

Before I can tell her I know she's lying, she turns away from my scrutiny and without raising her voice in the least, calls Edward's name. He's there before I can blink, and I don't resist at all when he lifts me into his arms. Tucking my head against the cold column of his neck, I close my eyes. I'm so tired. I don't think I've ever been so tired in my life, and the thought of sleeping no longer terrifies me. I want to curl closer to him and sleep for a year, maybe longer, but I fight the urge to give in to the impulse. I have to get myself together. I have to know where my father is, no matter how afraid I am of the answer.

I wait. Wait, while Edward helps me in the Jeep. Wait, while Carlisle takes my pulse, gives me some kind of medication to stop the nausea, runs his hands over my ribs searching to see if I've done more damage. Wait, through the irrational fear I feel at his touch. Wait, until Jasper drives us out of the woods and down the dark quiet road.

"Edward, tell me where Charlie is. Tell me he's...okay." I'm leaning against his side, his arms creating a cage around me that braces my body from the slight, bouncing movement in the Jeeps suspension. Steadying myself for the sharp pain that slices through me when I move, I look up at Edward, seeking the truth in his eyes. "Please."

I see him look in Jasper's direction, and I turn my head in time to see Jasper look back in the rear-view mirror. He nods almost imperceptibly, and instantly I feel a warm rush of contentment blanket my emotions. Jasper can force me into calmness, but he cannot stop the sadness that rushes in at the understanding for why he's doing it. I close my eyes, a childhood prayer that Renee had taught me as a little girl running through my mind like a knee jerk reaction.

* "Guardian angel from heaven so bright, watching beside me to lead me aright, fold thy wings round me."

Jasper's influence feels like a physical touch and I can feel myself cringing inwardly. I force my eyes open so I can look at Edward when I hear his voice.

His fingers brush my cheek softly as he murmurs, "and guard me with love, softly sing songs to me from heaven above."

I hadn't realized I'd spoken the words to that prayer out loud and I can feel sudden, impulsive tears burn behind my eyes as he finishes it for me. His expression is sad and he touches my face again with a caress so light I can barely feel it.

"What do you remember, Bella, from tonight? Do you remember when I arrived at your house?"

My eyes close again, but open immediately. There is no comfort in the darkness, only in him. I shake my head. I don't remember him being there. I only remember Jacob, the table breaking, his anger, the unrecognizable look on his twisted features. Not anger, but resolve, as though he's made his decision and is ready to act. Even that memory is unclear, the faint traces of the drug he'd transferred to me through every merciless, crushing press of his mouth against mine having already begun to weave its way through my system by then. Even now I swear I can taste it, him. Not even Carlisle's potent medication can quell the sudden and violent attack of nausea. I whimper and lean my head on Edward's chest, swallowing repeatedly until the feeling passes.

"I don't remember anything." My voice sounds choked, the lie constricting my throat painfully.

"Charlie came home. He found you, and Jacob. I was close enough to read his thoughts. He was enraged, afraid. Jacob was standing over you. He pulled his gun."

His eyes search mine, trying to see if anything triggers my memory, but everything he says stays hidden in the dark. Jasper is still layering blankets of serenity over my emotions. So much so, that I almost feel detached.

"They fought, Bella. The gun went off and Charlie was shot."

I can't react. The numbness penetrates so deeply Edward might as well be telling me Charlie had gone fishing. I can feel my eyes blinking; can hear the swish and friction of the Jeeps tires on the wet road. It all blends together and I can't feel anything.

**Edward's POV**

Jasper's influence is strong enough that Bella's face remains unchanged when I tell her the truth. Her beautiful eyes fall shut and she makes a sound of frustration in the back of her throat.

"Jasper, stop! Get out of my head, get out, I can't take it please, please, please." Her voice is soft, almost near to a whisper, but the urgency behind it is startling.

Jasper's surprise is no different from mine. With the amount of his gift that he is applying, she should not be able to offer any resistance, much less experience the stress and anxiety that he can feel her exude. Instead of pulling back, he increases the wave, directs it as precisely as he can and still her tension increases.

I have no idea how she's fighting him.

"Jasper, stop. She's panicking." The images and thoughts in Alice's mind show increasing agitation in Bella, and she lays her hand on Jasper's arm. He begins to pull it back and Bella relaxes against me once again.

Alice turns around from the passenger seat and reaches out to Bella, who instantly shrinks back away from her hand.

"Don't, Alice, please. Just tell me where Charlie is. Tell me he's okay."

"He's in the hospital, Bella." Carlisle draws her attention to him and holds it. "Undergoing surgery. The bullet passed through his right side, entered his chest, and lung. We don't yet know the extent of the damage. Dr. Talon is an excellent surgeon; he is getting the best care possible. I promise you, Bella, everything possible is being done."

I am not surprised when she turns to Alice. Even in her current state of mind she will not think of herself, nor will she ignore any avenue of garnering the truth. "Alice, tell me what you see?"

In the front seat Jasper reaches out and takes Alice's hand, while her head falls, her eyes close. I can see the images I don't want knowledge of, play over and over, each one varying, but never changing in the end result. I close my own eyes, my arms moving as carefully as possible to embrace Bella, to pull her near, to try with the strength of my body to protect her. I can be no more successful at this than I have been at any other task tonight, and my failures will haunt me for all of my immortal existence. Her pain is my punishment, her suffering my hell and I will embrace all of it, carry the burden gladly because it means she is alive, and God help me, nothing else matters.

**Bella's POV**

"I want to be with him, take me there."

"Bella, you need care. I want to take more x-rays, make sure the fractures in your ribs have not been worsened. Your lungs are irritated by smoke inhalation, and Halothane can cause breathing problems. You need oxygen and rest; you've been subjected to emotional trauma..."

"Carlisle, please. I don't want him to be alone."

I feel the Jeep slow, and Jasper makes the next left turn, the headlights briefly illuminating the exit sign with the Hospital symbol directly below it. I turn to Edward, knowing I am asking for too much but needing so badly to be held tighter in his solid, cold embrace.

A memory shifts in and out of my mind, like a static filled TV screen. Broken glass, the chair in the corner of my living room, the smell of blood and cordite, and rain. This time, I make sure I say the words out loud.

"Don't let me go Edward, please don't let me go."

**Edward's POV**

"Never, Bella. Do you hear me love? I will never let you go."

**Charlie's POV**

_So much commotion. Movement everywhere, like one of those crazy pools of Salmon. Just flashes of white coats looking a lot like the soft underbellies of fish as they thrash around my net. No noise though, just the most perfect silence I have ever heard, extending on and on. I'm here, floating on a placid, calm river, with the gentle tug of the current coaxing me along. But I'm there too. Silent and still, waiting for something..._

_Damn odd to be in two places at one time. I wonder what I'm waiting for?_

* * *

**A/N *Guardian Angel Prayer. Couldn't find who wrote this so I can't credit it. I can only tell you it's not mine and that no copyright infringement is intended.**

** Definitions. (The words are pretty self explanatory, but just in case anyone wasn't certain.)**

**Halothane**** - Inhalational general anaesthetic. **

**Prochlorperazine**** - antiemetic, used for the treatment of nausea and vomiting. **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Huge thank you to SydneyAlice who acted as a beta for me on this chapter. **

* * *

Chapter 13 Holding On

**Bella's POV**

I am moving to get out of the Jeep before it has even really stopped and I'm instantly angry at Edward's restraining hand on my waist.

"Bella, wait," he admonishes gently. "We need to let Carlisle go first. Having anyone see you like this will make things difficult right now. We had to tell the officers who arrived at your house to investigate the shooting that Charlie was hurt in an attempted home burglary. No one knows you were there. Carlisle and Jasper created a cover story for us."

My mind still feels as though it's seeped in quick sand, and I have to close my eyes and really focus to grasp what Edward is trying to tell me. "A cover story?"

"Yes. Carlisle told them you and I have gone away for a few days. Emmett has already taken care of all the details, so the story will be verified if anyone decides to check. If you and I are seen now, questions will be asked that cannot be answered. Do you understand?"

I open my eyes and study his face anxiously. I'm only just beginning to understand how complicated this entire nightmare is. And not just for Charlie and I, but for the entire Cullen family. That Edward would even consent to bring me here despite the dangers to him and to the others, wracks me with guilt. As much as I am desperate to be with Charlie, I can't put them at any more risk.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think...wasn't thinking...we should leave." The sudden pain in my heart at the thought of leaving Charlie is so intense, that for a moment I can't breathe. My vision blurs in a wash of hot tears.

Edward shakes his head. "No. Carlisle will find a way to get us in unseen. I will give you a chance to see your Father..."

"To say good bye? Is that what I'll be...doing?" I turn away from the look of agony in his eyes and plead with Alice. "Is that what this is Alice? Is Charlie going to...die?" Jasper is once again pressing me down with his gift, creating a blanketing feeling of warmth and contentment, attempting to swaddle me, suffocate me, in cloying layers of unwanted emotion.

Alice makes a soft sound of frustration and grief, before flinging open her door and racing around the Jeep to mine. Taking my face gently between her cold hands, refusing to let go even as I flinch back, her dark russet eyes burn into mine. Her voice is hard, commanding and full of her own pain. "Listen to me, Bella. My visions change. You know that. Charlie's path can change. What I see now, doesn't have to be." My heart hurts and my tears spill down my face and over her fingers. Her expression softens and turns pleading. "Charlie's path can change, Bella."

I manage a nod, somehow, and she lets me go. Edward's arms steady me, helping me grab hold of the loose reins on my emotions. In my mind I find a door and slam it shut on Jasper, an entire corridor of doors, one after the other. It's only imaginings. A silly, vain way to cope with the feeling of invasion that seems to be attacking my sense of reason. I know Jasper wants to help. I know I have no rational reason to feel invaded or violated, the way I do now. _I know_ it has everything to do with Jacob and what he's done, and nothing to do with Jasper. Still, I find the doors and slam them harder and harder in my mind. It isn't possible to resist Jasper's influence; this is nothing more than a trick, an illusion, a coping mechanism. A futile attempt to gain control of _just...one...thing...tonight_. I find the last door and reach out and slam it with every ounce of mental strength I can find. My over active imagination perfectly matches the resounding echo to the brutal pounding of my headache.

Charlie is dying.

The rush of agony, guilt and overwhelming sadness takes my breath away. I can still feel Jasper's calm aura, but it's less now, tolerable. I manage to lift my head and meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. I don't know why he's pulled it back but I'm grateful. He looks startled and confused at my thank you, but I don't have the strength to focus on it. Instead I concentrate on breathing, in and out, shallow, like sipping through a straw. It makes me dizzy but at least it doesn't hurt. I've had more than enough of hurt.

**Edward's POV**

_She's blocking me, Edward._

I am so focused on following the thoughts in Carlisle's mind, and the images in Alice's, that it takes me a moment to capture the meaning behind Jasper's supposition. Bella is tense, drawn tight like a fine wire in my arms, and I can see the truth of his theory for my own eyes. That it shouldn't be possible seems hardly relevant in the face of her suffering. That there is little I can do for her except try to brace her failing strength with my own, fills me with bitter gall. If any of this is somehow a punishment for my sins, hell could have found no better way to torture me.

"Thank you," she whispers to Jasper, and though I should be surprised that she is not aware of the barrier she is creating, I am not. Bella's mind holds powers that have enabled her to block me from the moment I first laid eyes on her. It is no surprise that the extreme duress she's been placed under tonight might facilitate that power unbeknownst even to herself.

Her breathing is shallow, a futile effort to ease the pain of her fractured ribs, and I capture her hand which feels cold in mine. Her fingernails are colored with traces of pale blue, alarming me to her frail condition. She is almost at the end of her rope. The lingering effects of two separate sedating drugs, her physical pain, her exhaustion, all combine and weigh her down relentlessly. Adding the emotional trauma of having someone she loved and trusted turn her whole world upside down, and it is a miracle she hasn't yet collapsed.

"Bella, I know you're hurting but you're not giving your body the oxygen it needs. Try to take deeper breaths."

She nods, but does little to change her breathing. Carlisle's thoughts prevent me from making a stronger point. He's standing at the hospital entrance, speaking with the front receptionist at her desk. As he questions her on a form he needs for a specific patients records, he follows her into the inner office.

_Now Edward. Room 348. The way should be clear. I will meet you up there as soon as I can._

Taking hold of Bella, I guide her from the Jeep and into the quiet deserted lobby. Carlisle has chosen the quickest route to get us from point A to B, and the elevator doors open almost directly to Charlie's room. We slip in undetected, and I close the door silently behind us before drawing the curtain around his bed, and gently ushering a now hesitant Bella behind it. I stay with her for only a moment. Long enough to squeeze her hand in a futile gesture of reassurance and comfort, and to brush a soft kiss to her cheek.

"We can't stay long, love. The nurses will be making regular, frequent rounds to check on him," I tell her regretfully. Charlie is barely recognizable behind the Endotracheal tube that connects him to the ventilator that currently breathes for him. The myriads of wires that connect him to the cardiac monitor are the only splash of color next to the starched white linens and the ghost pale translucence of Charlie's normally robust skin tone. The medicinal stench of pharmaceuticals and commercial grade disinfectants burn the sensitive lining of my sinuses. It's not enough to cover the smell of death that surrounds Charlie like an impending shroud. I am perversely familiar with and appalled by the scent. Helpless frustration beats upon my chest like a fake, mocking heartbeat.

Bella makes a soft strangled sound, part whimper, part plea, and shakes her head as though she could somehow repute this broken image of the man who normally stands so tall. "Why...the tube? Can he not breathe on his own?"

Moving to the end of the bed I steal precious seconds that I should be using to monitor the nurse's movements to flip through the vitals chart. He's arrested twice in the last hour alone, and the last splinters of hope leave jagged holes in their departure. I haven't the heart to tell her what I see, so I give her the standard medical procedure equivalent and curse myself for a coward the entire time.

"He's had major surgery; it's standard procedure. His body needs time to recuperate. The ventilator reduces the work of breathing and allows for a period of haemostability."

Her eyes meet mine briefly conveying her confusion. "He's lost a lot of blood, Bella, and surgery like he's had is traumatic to the body. The ventilator is giving his body a chance to rest, to avoid the work that is related to breathing." If she better understands what I'm telling her, it does not show on her face. She turns back to him and I can literally see her spine straightening, see her gathering the threads of her resolve around her like a cloak. She moves to the bed, her expression infinitely sad.

"Oh Dad," she whispers. Her hand reaches down past the cold silver metal of the safety railing and wraps around his. "I'm sorry."

I close my eyes at the quiet apology, feeling something elemental and deeply buried in my mind tear in two at the sound. I want to tell her it isn't her fault, but now is not the time. Frantically, I search for the minds of the two night shift nurses and move to the corner of the observation window. From my angle I can observe, but I won't be easily seen should anyone look this way. Their thoughts are quiet; one is consumed with concern for another patient, while the other is quietly singing Frank Sinatra's "Softly, As I Leave You" in her mind. The fitting and haunting song eerie at such a time. Since neither seems to be headed in this direction I slip back behind the curtain with Bella, wanting to be unobtrusive, but near if she needs me.

The door opens and Carlisle enters silently. His presence eases me.

He takes Charlie's chart, scans it for changes. His expression gives nothing away but his thoughts are troubled by what he sees. Lifting his eyes to mine his thoughts become clearer. _Everything that can be done is being done, Edward. The rest is up to him, and God_.

I resist the urge to sneer. Beneath that urge is fear. Pure and stark, wondering if the touch of my soulless existence has somehow tainted Bella's, taken her away from the protection of a fickle deity. I force my thoughts away from such self indulgence. There isn't time to wallow in self pity or loathing. Right or wrong, the threads of my life are inextricably woven now with hers. We will be together for eternity, be it under a shelter of divine radiance, or forever condemned to the shadows of twilight.

Carlisle moves to Bella's side and lays his hand on her shoulder. His thoughts are sad, frustrated - his love for her as one of his own daughters apparent in each one. She looks up at him and I don't need to be able to read her mind to know what she's thinking.

"Can you save him, Carlisle?"

His words are a repeat of his earlier thoughts, although he understands her real question. "Everything that can be done is being done, Bella."

"Can _you_ save him, Carlisle?" She knows he understands.

"Bella. You must think clearly now. Even if it were in my power to grant what you imply, it is not a solution. You know this in your heart."

"I know that my Father is..." She cannot bring herself to say the words and her eyes flare in pained anger. "I can't lose him, not now, not because...of something...I did. Please Carlisle."

Taking her by the shoulders, he turns her more towards him. His tone firm, almost angry. "You did nothing wrong, Bella. What happened tonight was not of your doing. Jacob's decisions, the Elders decisions are responsible, not you. Your Father needs you to be strong now, Bella. Your family needs you to be strong."

Her eyes are dark, bruised in shadow and rimmed red with unshed tears. She closes them and a small measure of her grief slips past her lips in a quiet sound of anguish. Carlisle's tone softens. "This life you are choosing is not an easy one, Bella, but you have a reason to choose it. Don't make the mistake of thinking that Charlie would choose this, because I know that he would not. This is not a life for a man of his measure. I love you as one of my own now, and I will do all that is humanly possible to spare you this hurt, but I could never condemn him to this fate. Even if I could, or would, his injuries are too severe; his heart would probably never withstand the venom."

Her shoulders slump beneath the weight of Carlisle's words and she turns away from him, leaning more heavily now against the bed rail. Again I wonder how she is remaining on her feet and my instinct is to go to her. Carlisle holds a hand up to me in warning.

_Give her a chance to say what she needs to say, Edward. This could be her last opportunity._

I hold my place through sheer force of will.

"We haven't much time, Bella," he warns her, his tone insistent but gentle. She manages a small tight nod in response, her eyes never leaving Charlie's face.

"I'm going to speak to the nurse, Edward, buy her a little more time with him," he says to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. His eyes hold mine while his thoughts finish what he doesn't want to say out loud._ I'm concerned for her, Edward. We need to get her home. She needs rest and care; this level of stress and trauma is taking a toll and her injuries need better attention. Give her a few more minutes, but no longer._

I nod at his instructions and he squeezes my shoulder hard. _Be strong, Edward and stay level headed. She needs you now more than ever._ He slips out quietly and I listen as he makes his way to the nurses' station and begins to engage them both in conversation regarding several patients, including Charlie. I stop listening when one of the nurses asks Carlisle whether there had been any headway made in contacting Bella. Our cover story is iron tight. For all anyone knows Bella and I left early this evening for Seattle. From there we had plans to charter a sailboat and spend the next few days sailing. No one will be surprised if they cannot contact us. Emmett has covered our tracks perfectly, even going so far as to ensure there will be records of the charter, and arranging for the boat to be removed from its dock. Money can indeed buy almost anything, and our contacts are varied and wide spread. This is not the first time we have needed to arrange alibis, nor will it be the last.

"Dad, please. You have to fight." The anguish in Bella's voice reminds me that money and power mean nothing in the face of death. I watch her face carefully. Carlisle is right to be concerned for her. The bruises on her arms and jaw stand out in vivid relief on the backdrop of her pale skin, and a fine tremor moves the hand she uses to hold his. She cannot continue much longer. Her body will shut down soon in a protective instinct to conserve the energy it needs to heal. Her breathing continues to be shallow and she cannot be allowed to go much longer without supplemental oxygen. Halothane and smoke inhalation, combined with the natural protective instinct she has adopted to stave off the worst of her discomfort, is dangerous.

Charlie's mind is silent, any thoughts he might have, hidden from me in a veil of television-like static created by the drugs and his comatose state. I am not surprised by this; I have come across it many times, both during my medical training and other instances where I have encountered people near death.

Life seldom ends in the dramatic flash of images that mark a person's experiences and accomplishments. Death is a quieter event, even for those who do not deserve that grace. I have been in the minds of evil men who have found their ends in my arms. I have even found comfort in the peace that overtakes them. Peace they have never known, nor sought in their vile, pitiful lives. Peace that was perhaps undeserved. I choose not to dwell on that. It was enough that I acted as judge and executioner in the end of their mortal lives. I looked to have no part, no judgment, in what came to them in the after.

Now, here in this moment, there is little I would not give in order to see something more in Charlie's mind. A spark of life, of will. And if not that, then an image, a thought that might give comfort to the child he is leaving behind. Bella is a woman, in every way that matters, and yet anyone who loses a parent is once again reduced to a child, no matter his or her age. I search harder through the static that envelops Charlie, hoping but expecting nothing. When the first image slips into my consciousness, I am too surprised to recognize it for what it is.

A small girl riding a bicycle. The wind blows her hair and a younger version of Charlie races beside her, his hands held out protectively while he shouts praise and encouragement. A new image. A fast food restaurant. Charlie tearing open the plastic bag surrounding a brightly coloured toy. Gently encouraging the efforts of a young Bella's attempt to solve the riddle on a paper bag covered in mazes and connect-the-dot pictures. Holding out the small plastic lion, mimicking a roar, and eliciting giggles from the tiny child who is a perfect miniature of the woman I love.

_Dad, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry._

Stunned, I realize her lips are not moving. She's said nothing out loud. The images, the words I hear are hers, not Charlie's.

_I should have been a better daughter. I should have spent more time with you, especially these last few years. I was so caught up in myself, so selfish. Please Dad, fight. We haven't even had a chance to take that afternoon of fishing I promised you. We can even go to the Lodge after, and I won't complain at you about eating too much meat..._

Her thoughts break, her pain transmitted to me with stunning force and intimacy. I've wished for this a million times, but in this instant, I cannot bear it.

More images, coming faster, a blur of her memories as though she's trying to remember them all, commit them stronger to her mind.

_I love you, Dad. Please forgive me...please.._. "Dad, don't leave me."

Her last words are spoken in a whispered sob and the images shut off. Something inside of me snaps, and I move to her side. The pain in her mind, shared with me in that one instant, leaves a scar inside of me that I know will never heal. I welcome the pain, let it refocus my intentions. I cannot help Charlie; my job now is to keep the promise I made him. Protect his daughter.

_I will take care of her for you, Charlie. Always._

"Bella, love, we have to go now. The nurses are beginning their rounds."

"No. We can't leave him, Edward...not like this...all alone."

Carlisle's voice in my mind warns me we having only minutes. "We have to go." I begin to draw her away, and she emits a soft strangled cry, pulling away from me with a strength she should not be capable of. Clutching his hand she raises it to her face, kissing the back softly, holding it to her chest. She runs her fingers with infinite tenderness over his, again and again.

"I have to go Dad, but I'll be back okay? You...need to stay...strong. I love you, okay? You know that, right? I love...you..."

Her tears fall, leaving tracks on his arm, dotting the sheet. His mind stays silent.

"Bella..." Helpless frustration. I tug his hand away from hers, pull her back, no longer allowing her to resist. Carlisle meets us at the elevator, holding it open he helps me guide her inside. She pulls away and shoves his hand back. Turning even from me, she moves to the other side of the small space, breaking my heart with her distance. Her face is a quiet mask, streaked in tears, her thoughts silent and hidden once again.

In order to avoid the lobby, we disembark on the first floor and take a second elevator down, leaving the hospital by the side entrance. Bella refuses help the entire way, somehow managing to continue unaided. Jasper has brought the Jeep around, and Carlisle has once again doused the security lighting. The night is silent, cool and empty, full of shadows that hide our movements. As we step outside, then, and only then does the inevitable happen. Bella stops, her head falls and she begins to cry in earnest. I reach for her and she pulls away, holding her hand up to stop me.

"I can't do this. Edward please...I'm begging you, please...Don't make me leave...him. Don't make me do this." Her knees buckle, and this time when my arms go around her she doesn't resist.

I pick her up and carry her to the Jeep. Sliding inside, keeping her cradled protectively against me, I say the words I know will break her heart.

"Go Jasper. Get us home."

* * *

**Definitions.**

**Endotracheal tube****: A tube that is placed in the mouth and down through the trachea to open the airway. Often attached to a ventilator machine that mechanically breathes for patients who cannot do so on their own.**

**Haemostability****: Haemo refers to blood (hemo).**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Chapter beta'd by SydneyAlice.**

* * *

Chapter 14 Breaking Inside

**Edwards POV**

Bella's body curves more fully into mine, and she presses her forehead hard against my neck as Jasper pulls out of the hospital parking lot. She makes a soft sound of pained defeat and then relaxes against me as though the fight has gone out of her.

"I'm sorry, love," I whisper in her ear, helpless in my own defeat. I know I'm doing what has to be done, but it makes nothing easier. "I promise you, the very second it's possible I will take you back to him." I am doubtful that Charlie will survive this night and the futility of such a vow fills me with instant remorse. Yet how can I shatter whatever hope she may have left?

She shakes her head, her fingers clenching against my shirt, though she says nothing. I can feel Jasper easing his gift over all of us, but whether she is allowing it to touch her or not, I cannot know. Her mind remains silent. Her breathing is still shallow and though I hold her with as much care as possible, I can feel her tense at every bump in the road. The drive home seems to take an eternity.

Again, I am as careful as possible as I carry her from the Jeep and into the house. She stops breathing with every inevitable shift and twice she whimpers in pain. I don't bother to ask Carlisle where he wants her; I simply carry her to my room and lay her gently on the bed. He comes in behind me without comment and I move back far enough to allow him to examine her. She's quiet throughout, her eyes watchful, never leaving his face as though she's searching for something. He takes her pulse, listens to her breathing, and helps her lie back further on the bed so he can remove the sling and lift her shirt. Her entire side is black and blue - each patchwork bruise raised and overlapping each other. Splotches of purple interlace with the darker blues and the raised red edges that puff with swelling directly over her rib cage. The bruising lightens into a mottling of blues and blacks that disappear down beneath the waistband of her jeans. I have to turn away, move to the window. My thoughts are a murderous mixture of the darkest kind and I wonder if it will be possible for me to keep the pact I've made. I do not think it is.

Summoning back my self-control, I return to her side taking the glass of water from Carlisle and holding it for her to drink. She consumes most of it thirstily, saving the last few mouthfuls to wash down the Tylenol Carlisle gives her. That she accepts it without complaint tells me how great her discomfort is.

"Bella, I'm going to start you on oxygen again. Just for a little while. Your lungs are slightly inflamed from smoke inhalation and your body needs a break from the strain of breathing. I know taking normal breaths is painful for you right now, so until you are more comfortable the oxygen will help supplement what your body is being deprived of."

She nods as he pulls the portable oxygen unit closer to the bed and begins to regulate the flow, gently hooking the excess tubing over her ears. The hissing noise fills the room and Carlisle takes one last listen to her chest.

"Why can't I remember Charlie being...shot?" Her eyes close as though asking the question exhausts her.

Carlisle glances at me, and his thoughts convey his concern. He doesn't want her to do anything now but relax and rest.

"Bella, you need to rest now, love." I squeeze her hand gently and nearly wince when she turns towards me with tears in her eyes.

"Is it the drug that was in the wine? Is that why I...can't remember?"

"Yes."

Her face suddenly becomes even paler at my words. Her eyes dart to Carlisle, who's packing away his stethoscope, then back to me.

"I didn't drink the wine." Her eyes search mine and I keep my expression calm. She isn't asking, she's telling, so I only nod in acknowledgement of her statement. The fact that Jacob could transfer enough of the drug through his saliva to affect her at all speaks of how potent the amount he'd consumed had been. Her eyes dart again to Carlisle, then drop to her hand which begins to play with the strap on the brace around her wrist. Her thumb is bruised and a long jagged scratch runs along the side to vanish beneath the brace. I can smell the faint scent of the blood that has seeped out around the edges, blending with the chemical smell of Antibiotic salve. I grit my teeth, fight not to clench my hand in the comforter knowing if I do I will tear the fabric, wishing I had something more substantial to tear into. Like flesh, ripe with the stench of dog.

Bella glances up again at Carlisle, then back at me, back down to the brace. The Velcro strap makes a soft, rasping noise as she moves it.

"Is the brace bothering you, Bella?" Carlisle takes her hand but she shakes her head, her soft negation barely discernable.

"No, its fine." There is something indefinable in her tone and she raises her head again. Her eyes search Carlisle's face, as though she's looking for something she might find in his expression. He maintains the air of physician, calmly looking back at her, waiting with his infinite patience.

I have no such emotion. "What is it, Bella?" Her eyes flick back to me and then drop almost immediately. Her impossibly pale skin turns ashen. The only color left is in the curtain of mahogany hair that falls over her cheek, the slash of red from her bruised and tender mouth.

"Nothing," she whispers, letting that curtain of hair hide her face. I want to brush it away, the move heartbreakingly reminiscent of our early days, when my aura of violence in a biology classroom had caused her to hide from me. Before I can act on the impulse she looks up, although she focuses on Carlisle and not me. "Can you stop the oxygen, just for a few minutes? I want...too take a shower...get changed for bed. I'm...tired." She's attempting to regulate her breathing, take deeper breaths in a move to reinforce her plea.

Carlisle hesitates, his desire to give in to her personal needs weighing against his desire to ensure her safety. "Bella, I'm not sure that showering in your condition is a good idea. You could get lightheaded, slip and fall." His concern is all too easy for me to imagine and a nightmare image of Bella sliding against the slippery tub floor and falling, is terrifyingly realistic.

"Perhaps if you allow Alice to help you?" Carlisle suggests.

"I'll help her." Rosalie enters the room, slips soundlessly to Bella's side, her eyes meeting mine. "Alice and Jasper have gone to watch out for the dogs with Emmett and Esme," she offers before I can ask and her eyes burn into mine, dark with insistence.

_Let me help her_, _Edward. I'm possibly the only one who can right now_.

**Bella's POV**

Rose has made the water hot. Almost too hot, and yet, it isn't hot enough. I turn my face to the stinging power and whimper as it hits my mouth. Whimper again as I try to move my right arm to push the hair away from my face. Carlisle is right. I'm dizzy already, though I don't care if I fall. I instantly feel guilty for the thought and I hate myself for this weakness.

I force my arm away from its protective placement around my ribcage and grit my teeth against the stunning force of pain that sears from the fracture points and down the entire side of my body. Shoving the hair away from my face sends more pain flaring from my wrist. There is a large bruise on the inner side of my left elbow. It is the perfect shape of a thumbprint and I stare at it almost mesmerized. I don't need to look at the other side to know there will be four matching fingerprints. The soft throbbing in my nerve endings is all the proof I need. I close my eyes against the sight and grow even dizzier and it forces me to open them immediately. Ending up as a lump on the floor with a bleeding head wound won't help anyone, least of all me. And though Rose seems hardly bothered by the tiny amount of blood oozing from various scrapes and nicks, I wouldn't think to assume the same could be said for a full on gushing head laceration.

Reaching for the shampoo bottle makes me cry out despite my intentions and I say a very bad word, fighting tears of frustration. A similar oath comes from just outside the shower doors followed by a blur and a rustle. The doors open and Rose steps in, dressed only in her bra and underwear. I open my mouth to protest, but she's faster with her words than I am.

"Don't even say it, Bella. This isn't my idea of a good time either, but I'll be damned if I let you fall and split your head open. All I can smell as it is, is your blood. Do you want to make it worse? Because as bad as this night has been, I can guarantee you it can get worse."

I don't know why, but her words actually sound funny to me. Maybe it's the fact that she's threatening me, or maybe I'm just getting hysterical. Either way, a small choked laugh escapes my throat and I have to grit my teeth to keep it in. She snorts and with a gentleness I wouldn't expect her capable of she spins me around. Her snort instantly turns into a low throated menacing growl and I look back over my shoulder at her. Her eyes examine my back with an angry expression that sends a shiver down my spine. When she raises them to meet mine something quiet and inexpressible passes between us. There is no pity on her face and for the first time tonight someone besides Edward touches me and the feeling of sick helpless anger doesn't come. She doesn't feel sorry for me, but she does understand.

Taking the shampoo bottle, she fills her cupped hand to overflowing and lathers my hair. She isn't gentle. I don't want her to be. By the time she's done my scalp tingles and burns and when I whisper the word again, she complies without complaint or hesitance. My back is sore but she washes it without mercy. I press back against her hands, against the rough scrape of the loofah sponge, hoping that when she's done the skin will be gone. She presses a soap saturated wash cloth into my hand. Ignoring the pain in my wrist I scour my face repeatedly, rubbing it almost brutally against my mouth until I taste the blood from the re-opened cut on my lower lip. I spit, fill my mouth with water from the shower and spit again. Rose isn't breathing, but I have no room inside of me to feel regret about the pain my blood is causing her. She says nothing, merely takes the cloth, rinses it, fills it once again with soap and hands it back to me.

When the water grows cool, she adjusts it. When the soap is gone from the cloth, she gives me more, again and again. Until, finally, she takes the cloth and quietly says enough. I stand there shaking, wanting to argue but not having the strength. She adjusts the water one last time and one final blast of near scalding heat sears my already red skin. This time, with infinite gentleness she rests the palm of her hand against my back. Her fingers move, tracing the patterns of bruises I can only feel, before coming to a rest splayed against my spine.

"He didn't rape you, Bella."

My shoulders fall and the last residual bits of tension leaving my body makes me shake. The holes in my memory taunt me. A sudden unwelcome image flashes through my mind. Jacob glaring at me from across my living room.

"_You really have your period now?"_

_Hostility, disbelief. Emotions I don't recognize on a face I no longer know. Moving towards me, grinning._

"_Fuck it Bella, I don't care. Just one more thing the bloodsucker can't do for you right?"_

From that point forward my memory draws nothing but blurry watercolour paintings. Indistinct and unreal. The harder I try to see, the more the images melt into puddles of paint that have no definition. Until finally there is nothing. Just blank white canvasses as empty as my heart feels.

"I can't...remember." The tears clog my throat as I try with everything in me to suppress them. "It just goes blank...how can you...?"

Her hand doesn't move, the pressure remaining constant and yet I could almost swear that I can feel the intensity of her in that moment through her touch. As though she's trying to impart the truth of what she says through the connection between her skin and mine. I wonder briefly in that moment before she speaks if Rose has a power after all. One she either hides or doesn't recognize in herself because even before she says a word, I _believe_ she's telling me the truth. Believe it with a conviction that no denial of my fears through words alone could ever grant.

"I could smell him on you Bella, but just him, just the reek of dog. Not spunk. Even if he hadn't finished with you, I would have smelled the trace. Besides," she grunted, her voice laced with her normal acid, "If my brother wasn't being such an ass, you'd know it yourself. It's only because you're so ridiculously innocent that you don't."

I feel a stab of anger at her attack on Edward. "He's only wanted to protect me, Rose. He loved me, he was afraid of hurting me."

She's quiet for a minute and the steam enveloping the shower makes the moment feel almost surreal. When she speaks her voice is quieter and tinged with a tiny hint of regret at her words. "I know, Bella. He _**wants**_ to protect you," she says, emphasizing the present tense. "He _**loves**_ you and he would die to protect you. I said he was an ass, I never said he was stupid." Withdrawing her hand she opens the shower door and the steam escapes taking away the surreal feeling as quickly as it came. Turning away, she hesitates for a second, one foot in the shower, one out. Her tone changes again and her thoughts seem as though they've turned inward.

"Listen to me, Bella. In a few days you are going to be grateful for what that bastard didn't do. Right now? Probably not so much. So until then? Feel what you want to feel. Take what you need to take, do what you need to do. Be selfish if you need to be, Bella. No one will blame you for that." She slips the rest of the way out and closes the door and I find myself sinking down to my knees.

The water is still hot, but no longer stinging. The dial on the faucet shows that it's pretty much on full so there is no sense in trying to adjust it. I'd like to curl in on myself. Lie on the floor and close my eyes and go to sleep, but my battered body won't bend. I settle for lowering my head until the water pushes my hair down around my face, shutting out the world in a brown waterfall. Softly, with my arms wrapped around my middle, as much to protect my ribs as it is to hold the broken pieces of myself together, I begin to cry. For Jacob, who I can never forgive. For Edward, who may never forgive me. And for Charlie, who just may pay with his life for the choices I've made in mine.

**Edward's POV**

I can hear Bella crying. See her in Rose's mind as she kneels in the shower, her bruised body bowed so that all I can see is her delicate spine covered in the mottled blues and blacks that break my heart and enrage my mind. Helpless, frustrated, I move to the bathroom door but Rose's thoughts stop me.

_No, Edward. She needs to do this, just let her be for a few minutes._

A part of me knows she's right and I force that part to listen. For the sake of her health I cannot allow this to go on for long and I hiss those words to Rose, quiet enough that only she can hear. I'd closed my mind off as much as possible to the conversation between her and Bella, wanting both to trust my sister and to give Bella privacy, but there is no perfect switch. Some of it had come through despite my efforts. The fact that Carlisle had already told me through his mind that Jacob had not raped Bella did not alter the relief I had felt when Rose had verified the truth. Not even her harsh words about my choices in regards to Bella's innocence, or the much harsher, unspoken, castrating thoughts on the matter could cloud that feeling. That Bella had not herself been certain was yet another mark against me tonight. I should have told her, thought earlier to ease her mind. I fail her at every turn.

The washroom door opens and Rose enters the room, her thoughts sheltered in a blanket of her own memories. Seeing Bella like this has opened doors in her mind, and though her human memories are weak, they are no less brutal for the haze that covers them. There is nothing I can say to ease her, nor would she want me to try.

"Is she okay?"

Rose shrugs. "No."

My expression must show my pain because her own softens. "She isn't now, but she's strong, she will be."

"Tell me what to do Rose. Tell me how to help her."

"You're not ready to hear it yet, Edward. Ask me later."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're too angry. It means this isn't about you, but you can't see that yet. All you can see is your rage, and your need for revenge. Take it. Do what you need to do, then ask me what Bella needs. Because until you can be there for her one hundred percent, Edward, you're only going to tear her further apart."

I keep my voice pitched low, not wanting Bella to hear and the anger inside threatens to boil over at my words. "Revenge? Did you hear the promise I made, the pact I agreed to?" I spit the word pact out like the foulest curse. "I can't do what I need to do, what I want to do. All I can do is focus on her. If your own pain makes it impossible for you to help us then so be it; but don't play games with me, Rosalie."

Her mind is full of fury and I brace my body for impact, certain she is about to lunge. Her emotions cool almost instantly and she shakes her head at me. "I'm not playing games, I'm being honest. You know I am." Her expression softens even further. "Give her time Edward. Show her and tell her that you love her still, because right now, she's terrified you won't."

There is more. I can see glimpses of it in her mind though she's hiding it well. I know her stubbornness. She'll say nothing else until she wants to. I turn my back and go to the window, brace my hands on the glass and close my eyes searching for some semblance of calm. An ominous hairline crack appears in the upper left corner, forcing me to pull my hands away. Rose is right. In my present state of mind not only can't I help Bella, but I'm a danger to her as well.

I can hear Carlisle's cell phone ringing and almost instantaneously mine begins to ring as well. Then only a fraction of a second later, Rose's. The noise of the combined rings is loud in the otherwise quiet room. From his office I hear Carlisle answer his. From only feet away, Rose does the same. The call display screen on my cell shows Emmett's name and even as I answer I'm already hearing the conversations happening around me in my mind. His words still hit me like a blow.

"The Pack is on the move, Edward. Be prepared. We think they're headed to the house."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 The Truth Shall Set You Free

_"The Pack is on the move, Edward. Be prepared, we think they're headed to the house."_

**Edward's POV**

Growling, barely resisting the urge to smash the phone to dust in my hands, I grab the bag with Bella's clothes and hand it to Rosalie. "Get her dressed, hurry." For once she doesn't argue or complain, and I'm grateful as I turn my attention back to Emmett.

"What do they want?"

"Leah."

"What?"

"She's taken off. The Pack thinks she's headed to you, but they won't say why. This shit reeks of something, Edward. There's stuff going on here we don't know about. We had all angles covered, no one came out." He's furious.

"Someone came out, Emmett. You missed something." I can't keep the reproach from my voice.

"If she got by us it sure as hell wasn't in wolf form, Edward, I can promise you that."

"Stay with them. Whatever you do, Emmett, don't lose them."

"Not a fucking chance."

The line goes dead and I turn to Carlisle who's hanging up his own phone. His thoughts show identical information. The pack is hunting Leah Clearwater, and they are tracking her in our direction.

"Can I move Bella? Take her somewhere else, away from this?" Whatever this is, I don't want her in the line of fire.

"No." He shakes his head and makes his way to the window. "They're too close and she's too weak. Moving her now would just add to the trauma she's already reeling from."

I growl in frustration and he's suddenly in front of me, his eyes hard and dangerous, reminding me of who he is. The dark immortal that sired me and the being who has existed for 339 years. His patience, like mine, is hanging by a thread yet he still allows nothing except logic to govern his actions.

"Stay focused, Edward. You are not a newborn, control your emotions."

My mouth is swimming in venom as helpless rage and frustration continue to build to intolerable levels, but I nod in understanding. Above all else I must remain in control, for Bella's sake.

_Edward._

The voice in my head is quiet, undemanding and female. Leah Clearwater. I move to the window and see her, standing in the yard, seemingly waiting. I'm in front of her before her weaker senses can detect the movement, landing on the balls of my feet and rising slowly from a crouch to face her. It's raining harder now and she's pulled the hood of her black raincoat over her head. She's facing east, staring out at the woods with her head cocked slightly to the right, listening no doubt for the sounds of the approaching Pack. If my presence so close to her alarms her, or makes her nervous as it should, she gives no sign. Her mind is quiet, filled with nothing more than the random images of what her senses perceive. It occurs to me that the pack has been practicing this trick for a very long time. Learning, slowly and with relentless practice to guard their minds against my telepathic abilities. I wonder for how long.

She turns finally to face me, her expression as controlled and masked as my own. Her short black hair has begun to curl in the rain and a few pieces stick to her temple and the line beneath her jawbone.

"I can't phase. Sam has given me an Alpha command." Her sudden smile is devoid of humour. "He screwed up though."

Her thoughts show me Sam, furious and pointing at her as she stands near to the place where Jacob had been chained in the clearing. _"You will not phase and leave the Reservation, Leah. Do you hear me? No God damn way."_

Carlisle is suddenly behind me, though he hangs back. Her eyes flick to him remaining expressionless before returning back to me. She holds her arms up and surprises me with a dark laugh. "I left, but I didn't phase. He should be more careful how he phrases his orders, but it makes things a hell of a lot easier for you, Vampire."

I regard her warily. She is better than any of them at guarding her mind. She is allowing nothing to slip by. "How is that?" I ask quietly, and she smiles again with that same dark, empty smile that would be chilling if I was capable of such a feeling.

"I wasn't planning on fighting you either way, but in my wolf form instinct might have made me try to defend my life. This way will be a lot easier for you, and quicker for me."

I growl low in my throat and take a menacing step closer to her. She doesn't react. Neither with fear nor any other emotion I can detect. "So you've come to me with a confession, Leah?"

"No, not a confession. A confession would mean I have something to confess, an act I've committed that I feel remorseful about. I don't feel remorse." She laughs again, that same strange empty laugh that rings hollow in the air around us. "I just want you to know the truth, all of it. In a way you deserve that, you and Bella. I don't regret what I've done, but I do regret that she got hurt."

"Say what you want to say, Leah. My patience is thin tonight and I'm not interested in riddles."

She smiles again and this time there is an emotion behind it. Pride. "We've kept you out, haven't we? The almighty Edward Cullen and family, not so almighty anymore when you can't see what's coming before it gets there. What are you without your ability to reach into other people's heads and steal their private thoughts? What are you without your sister's visions? Just a group of walking dead, that's all." Her voice has turned to a sneer and my thin guise of patience snaps.

"You've done well, Leah, to keep the blindfold over your minds. But not near as well as you think. I know what you've done." For the first time I see her blanch and some of the certainty leaves her eyes. "You show me Sam and his Alpha command, and in your arrogance you think that is all I see, but you would be mistaken, Leah. I see so much more than what you choose to show me."

I take a step closer to her, dropping my voice, letting the venom coat my words until they roll off my tongue like poison soaked silk. Her heart rate increases but she stays in place, her eyes turning soft and confused. Bella accuses me of dazzling her with this stare, and I've allowed her to believe that small fairytale. Were she to see me now she would understand that dazzle is a pretty word, unsuitable in every way for my actions. The predatory way I move towards Leah would leave no doubt that fairytales are dark and twisted things, and that Princes weave dark spells over maidens for much less pleasant things than a true love's kiss.

"Would you like to know what I saw, Leah?" She doesn't answer beyond a slightly nervous swallow, but I'm not expecting one. "I saw a tree with chains. The same tree where Jacob Black was held only a few hours ago. Only now, the chains are empty." I don't change the soft cadence of my voice. As I close the last few steps between us, I match each word to my movements. "You…let…him…go."

Her heart rate picks up a bit more and she clenches her fists at her side, though she continues to hold her ground. Her fear is tangible, but there is an air of resolved defeat around her that I don't yet understand. "And now you're here to provide a distraction. A chance for him to get farther away."

Her eyes widen slightly in surprise and then just as quickly narrow. "I don't need to do that, he's already long gone." She's fighting to keep her thoughts closed, but I can see the truth of my words in her mind.

"Doubtful. I know Sam gave him the same Alpha command that imprisons you, Leah. He won't have gone far in human form, especially not in his condition." I turn and begin to walk away, disregarding her as a threat. Jacob on the run is not acceptable to me and I can feel my anger and helpless frustrations finding their focal point. He will have gone off to lick his wounds but he won't vanish. His thoughts in the clearing had been confused with only one thought more than certain. He doesn't consider things to be over between us.

"You gave your word, Edward Cullen. Jacob's life for _her_ change." She says the word her with bitterness and hatred, and when I turn back her features are twisted and ugly. "Are you going to break your word?"

"That depends on him. If he crosses my path, all bets are off." Her face becomes pale and her lips compress tight in anger. Taking a step towards me, I'm not surprised to see her begin to tremble as the change tries to take over. But no matter her emotions an Alpha command cannot be broken. I smile darkly and turn away again only to be stopped in my tracks by her next words.

"I put the drugs in the wine, not Jacob."

I'm back in front of her before the last syllable of her sentence fades to complete silence. "What did you say?"

She takes a reflexive step back. For a second her natural fearful instincts seem about to take over, but then she smiles and I can see that resolved and defeated air slip back down around her. Her shoulders fall slightly and she sighs. "Yes, you heard me. I put the Rohypnol in the wine, only I knew Bella wouldn't drink it. Miss Goody two shoes, perfect princess Bella Swan, drink alcohol?" She snorts and shakes her head. "It was meant for Jacob."

"Why?"

"The plan was that Jacob would take Bella. Bring her back to the Reservation and keep her away from you. The Elder's knew you'd never just walk away, in fact, they were counting on it. She was nothing more than their bargaining chip." A small grimace of distaste crosses her features. "The only one who didn't know what was really going on was Billy Black. He believed the plan was to save Bella from you, but he was wrong. That was never the plan at all, that was just what the other Elders wanted him to believe so he'd cooperate."

She smiles again, this time without pride. Only sadness touches her eyes and the slight curl to her lips seems to be nothing more than disdain and mockery. "But you already knew that didn't you? I saw you in the clearing. You let Billy have his say, but you knew there was more to it."

I don't reply, choosing to neither confirm nor deny her accusations. After a small pause she continues as though her speculations were never spoken out loud.

"You and your family were supposed to break the treaty. You were supposed to come on Quileute lands, the dark knight rescuing his damsel in distress. When you broke the treaty you'd give all the power back to the Elder's and they could - oh so graciously - give you Bella in return for one small thing. That all of you would leave Forks, leave Washington State and never return. But Jacob wasn't planning on making it so easy. He hasn't given up on her; he was still convinced that he could persuade her to change her mind. He wanted to take her away; somewhere you wouldn't be able to find her. When he told me, I pretended to understand. Jacob and I have gotten…closer over the last few months."

"And by closer, you mean you're sleeping with him," I intone quietly. It's not a question, she's stopped guarding her thoughts and I can see more than I want to see now.

"Once," she whispers just as quietly in answer. "One time, one stupid mistake." She closes her eyes and the memory brings the images stronger to my head making me sick with the voyeurism I want no part of. She snaps her eyes back open no more pleased with the memory than I am. The fact that the entire pack now also shares their one time indiscretion is not lost on me.

"What Billy told you in the clearing is true. Since Jacob found out about you and Bella getting married, he's been a loose cannon. He drinks a lot, trying to chase a high he can't achieve. He doesn't sleep, he's just a mess. So when he told me, I pretended to understand, but I couldn't let it happen. I couldn't allow the plan to fail." Anger twists her expression and hate pours off of her in waves. "You and your God damn family have destroyed my life in every way conceivable, leech. Your presence here took everything away from me. If you'd stayed away, Sam never would have undergone the change. He would never have imprinted. We would still be together. I would still have a chance to live a normal life, but you took that away from me just by being here. Nothing that has been done can be undone, but I will be damned if I'm just going to sit back and watch anyone else go through what I have. What we all have. And let you add to your sick little coven no less." Her eyes overflow with hate and anger as she continues to rant, venting her madness in a relentless torrent of words. The noose tightens around her neck as I allow her to hang herself in unnecessary confession.

"As long as you are here, as long as you exist the change will keep happening," she continues. "Did you know that Emily is pregnant? Did you know that Sam wants you gone too, but only for her sake, because she's afraid for her unborn child? She doesn't want her child to be a wolf. As if she has a choice." Her breath exhales in sporadic pants as her anger escalates, but it has nowhere to go. The tight imprisonment of the Alpha command overrides all her natural instincts, and all she can do now is tremble in helpless anger. I won't deny how pleased I am at her suffering.

She manages a quick indrawn breath and some of the tension slips away. "Do you think I'd be so picky if I was her?" A small tight laugh that sounds more like a growl escapes her throat. "But that's my loving cousin for you. Nothing is ever quite good enough for her. And Sam? Ha, what wouldn't he do for her? Including finding some way to encourage you and yours to leave just to grant her some fake peace of mind. He'd even hand you a human on a silver platter if you asked him." The laugh this time is even darker and it's all I can do to allow her to continue. "Hell, he pretty much did, didn't he? For all the good it did him."

Her expression clears and her mind skips past her hate and returns to earlier this night. Through my gift I can see her, placing the drugs in the wine, re-corking the bottles, carrying them out to Jacob.

"So I put the drug in the wine. Enough to knock out a safari of elephants. Jacob should have passed out and Bella should have driven him home, bringing herself right into the trap. Only everything went wrong. Jacob didn't pass out. He didn't even give Bella the drug so she'd pass out. He didn't call Sam like he was supposed to…Instead…"

"Instead indeed." My hand reaches out and closes around her throat with a movement so slow and so gentle it is almost a caress. Her flesh is extremely warm and yielding beneath my fingers. When she swallows suddenly, her eyes widening in alarm, I want nothing more than to snap the stalk of her neck like a twig. Her selfish actions almost cost me every reason I have to live and with every fibre of my being I want to end her.

"And so the plan fails," I murmur, finishing her thought that had begun with the word instead. "And all that is left is damage control. Take Bella from us, and force a meeting to amend the treaty. Not Bella's change for our agreement to leave Forks and never return, but Bella's change for Jacob's life. Because you knew after what he'd done that there was little chance I would allow him to live and the Pack cannot afford to lose a member as strong as the true heir of Ephraim Black."

"Yes," she replies, though I do not need her confirmation. "We knew it was either that or war. Just like you knew it. We could have stopped you, we could have annihilated you," she retorts arrogantly, "but not without casualties on our side. Billy begged for Jacob's life. Colin and Brady and Seth are too young, too inexperienced to fight, and Emily was terrified of losing Sam. Her pregnancy is volatile and Sam won't jeopardize her health, so a compromise is born. No war. Jacob lives, the Pack stays strong, and you get what you want. Her." Despite the threat of my hands around her throat her eyes narrow into slits and her voice is a hiss of hate. "But I don't trust you, Edward Cullen. I watched you in that clearing, I watched you walk through fire for her. You won't be satisfied with the terms, your kind never is. It's blood for blood." She pushes against my hand with her body though in human form she's too weak to do anything more than inflict more damage on herself. "Jacob doesn't remember anything that he did," she snarls in his defence. "His mind is blank, erased by the drug that stole his conscience just as much as it stole his memory. The drug _**I**_ gave him. I'm the blood that will feed your thirst for revenge, not him."

My fingers tighten convulsively around her throat. Images of Bella, battered, broken and crying in my arms as I tear her away from her Father's death bed cloud away all sane reason.

Carlisle moves to my side. "Don't, Edward." I'd almost forgotten he was there.

"Do it," Leah whispers through her compressed vocal chords, her eyes suddenly full of helpless tears. Her thoughts betray her; she wants me to end her life. Not remorseful or repentant, but tired and lost and hopeless. I will grant her what she wants. There is nothing in me that finds her worthy of redemption.

"NO!"

In that moment I was so lost in my rage I missed the approach of the Pack. I have only a split second to turn and lower into a crouch before the hiss of wind and the distinct cracking of bones shifting into a new deadlier shape registers fully in my awareness. Sam Uley transforms mid stride and launches himself at me with stunning speed and force. The impact sends us both flying 15 feet across the ground, landing hard near the base of a tree that vibrates so violently several large limbs crash down around us. His jaws snap only inches from my shoulder, but I'm already twisting, driving my arm beneath his head and slamming upward with deadly accuracy. He's thrown backwards by the force of my blow and before he hits the ground I'm up and after him. He lands awkwardly, razor sharp claws tearing into the soft ground looking for purchase. I don't allow him to find his balance. With one swift move I drive my right hand into his femur bone, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone. My hatred boils over and finally, _finally_, I have the release for my rage I need.

I twist my hand around his leg and wrench until he lands on his side, driving my elbow up and into his ribcage. His howl is loud, more enraged than pained, and he turns his head so that his lethal jaws can reach my leg. I catch his thought a second before he connects and drive my other hand against his chest. The action feels like hitting a hot, fur covered mass of iron and the reverberation almost throws off my balance. Muscle and sinew resist my efforts to claw inside as his chest heaves beneath my hand with his breathing. He twists his entire lanky form, finds his purchase on the ground and I lose my grip. Once again his thoughts deceive him and when he tries to lunge against me with his full force, I tighten my grip on his fractured femur, tear him from the ground and send him hurling through the air. He twists perfectly mid flight and lands on his feet just as the rest of the Pack breaks through the trees.

The rest of my family suddenly surrounds me as well, their cold snarls erupting in fury, perfectly in tune with the heated growling erupting from the wolves. There are seven of us and only five of them but their thoughts are collective and unified. Sam lowers his head, only slightly favouring his leg and growls louder. Embry, Paul, Jared, and Quil all appear as ready to spring and I sense that the other three Pack members are not far away. For a long moment the tension coils and redoubles, and then Leah rises from the ground where she'd been knocked during the initial contact between Sam and me. She cradles her hand and arm to her side and I can see that several of her fingers have been broken. Sam's growl turns into one of frustration as he snaps at her trying to drive her back, but her attention is on me.

"It isn't him you want, remember?" Her voice is tight with pain but still laced with anger. Rough and strained from the grip I'd held her with and the damage I'd inflicted on her throat yet still surprisingly loud and forceful. Sam and Embry drive her back, shoving with their large heads, herding her until she has no choice but to move. Still reeling with fury and the need to finish this I hiss angrily and step closer to the Pack.

"You're wrong. I want you both."

**Bella's POV**

Every word Leah spoke feels ingrained in my mind like etching on glass. The sight of Edward and Sam colliding in rage keeps skipping on replay, and through it all I never stop feeling like I want to lay down on the cold wet grass and just let go. But I know I can't. I can see Edward moving closer to Sam. His rage has transformed him to the point I barely recognize him. All of the Cullen's are poised on the brink of violence. It radiates off of them so distinctly it is almost visual. Like heat waves from sun scorched asphalt and I swear I can feel it saturating my skin, pulling me under. Why won't this all end? It has to end. Now, before it destroys everything and everyone I love.

"Edward..." The darkness reaches up from the ground and swallows me whole.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 Breathe In

**Edward's POV.**

"Edward..."

Bella's voice snaps me out of the trance that surrounds me with violence and bloodlust. I'm moving before the last syllable passes her lips, already knowing that she's about to collapse. It's in her voice, the inflection of her tone and in the pain she can't hide.

Esme reaches her before I do and the sound that escapes her throat when Bella falls into her arms is vicious and ripe with anger and fear. Bella's fragile human nature has always brought out Esme's strongest mothering instincts. Now, seeing up close for the first time the damage that has been done sends her mind into fury. She takes a step back away from me when I reach for Bella who's already beginning to stir.

"No!" Her lips curl back and she shakes her head angrily before turning to Carlisle. "End this," she hisses to him and her eyes flash back to me with unmistakable authority. "Now."

Carlisle is already moving and he blocks my path, holding out his arm to stop me from going after Sam. Jasper and Emmett slip in behind us with Rose and Alice on either side. Their thoughts are as angry as mine.

Carlisle growls loudly and points to Sam, his face tight and his mind filled with cold decision. "This is enough! You have no control over your Pack, Sam Uley and my patience is at its end. I want you - all of you - gone from my sight immediately. I won't tolerate anymore interference with my family. You have one minute."

Sam moves toward Carlisle, a rough growl conveying his frustration and curling his lips back from his teeth. He turns to me, his dark wolf eyes burning into mine. His thoughts are conflicted between his anger at the insult and his need to explain his actions. He wants to find Jacob before any more time passes. His eyes move to Leah who still stands in a defensive posture with Embry using his body to block her from moving. He suddenly turns and dashes into the woods, reappearing a mere second later in his human form.

"I want this over as much as you do, Cullen. You have my word that we will no longer interfere with you and yours, and that includes Bella Swan. But I want your word as well that you will control _him_." He turns his glare on me and I growl in rage. My fear and need to tend to Bella are my only hold on sanity and reason. They keep me from lunging at him and ending his arrogant, useless life. "Give us time to find Jacob and return him to the Reservation."

"I'm not giving you anything and right now you need to pray that he has no plans to come here." Carlisle leans closer to Sam, his eyes blacker than the darkest night. "You have only seconds left."

The wolves begin to pace restlessly, low snarls erupting in menace and I push Carlisle's arm away from me and smile in dark invitation at Sam. "Come to me, Wolf. I will gladly end this."

His expression hardens and I can see his indecision, hear the thoughts he no longer tries to hide. A part of him is tired of all this and finds my invitation appealing, but his common sense and his guilt override his desire to fight. "Allow us time to find Jacob, and then if you still want me, Cullen, I promise I will be easy enough to find." His eyes flick one last time to Leah and his conflicted emotions fill my head. Despite everything he still loves her, still remembers who she used to be and those memories flood the space between us. I growl in frustration. I have no room for sympathy.

Bella is crying. So quiet as to be almost undetectable and yet the sadness fills the air reminding all of us who has paid the most for their actions. The sound seems to drift down around us and the wolves' heads lower slightly, ears twitching in discomfort and remorse. None of them are immune to her suffering and their regret is palpable. Their regret is obscene to me.

Jasper almost buckles beneath the weight of Bella's sadness and he groans and moves closer to the wolves. Her emotions are tearing him apart, bringing all his instincts to protect his family to the forefront of his mind. He is only barely controlling his gift and his eyes are entirely black, as though he has not fed in months. If he was to unleash even one fraction of his emotion the resulting explosion would end in complete bloodshed. Pulling his lips back from his teeth he hisses and the Pack shifts warily away, beginning to fade into the woods. Sam begins to step back as well. Still watching me, he speaks softly.

"Let this be between you and me then, Vampire. As the Alpha, as an Elder, I will bear the burden of responsibility for the harm that was done to her. I will deal with Leah, I will deal with Jacob, and then?" He holds his arms out as he continues to move away from us. When he reaches the tighter cropping of trees he hesitates. "If it's vengeance you need you can take it from me. At least, you can try." One last dark humourless smile crosses his face and then he vanishes into the woods not waiting for my reply. It takes everything in me not to follow.

**Bella's POV.**

_I put the drugs in the wine, not Jacob._

Leah.

Leah put the drugs in the wine and I don't even know how to begin to comprehend what that means.

Nausea licks at me, coiling my stomach into tighter and tighter knots and coating my skin in a slick cold sweat. I try to take a deeper breath to calm the urge to throw up. My efforts are rewarded with burning darts of pain that skid up and down the side of my body. The pain only makes me feel worse and I barely make it off the bed and into the bathroom. Esme's cool hands try to soothe as she gently holds my hair back, and though I would never wish to hurt her, I pull away as soon as soon as I can. Her cold marble hands feel restrictive and I'm grateful when she seems to understand. She hands me a warm cloth to wash my face but makes no move to try and help me.

My legs won't stop shaking and it's all I can do to make it back to the bedroom. Instead of going to the bed I sink down against the wall, finding that the harder surface seems to offer a support that makes it a little less painful to breathe. I can't throw up anymore. There is nothing left in my body and yet I can still feel the threat roiling through my battered insides. It would be smarter anyway not to get too far away from the bathroom.

Esme kneels on the floor in front of me and her hand reaches out, fluttering in an uncharacteristic and unsteady way. I recognize the sudden similarities between this exquisitely beautiful immortal woman and my own Mother. A sudden intense longing for Renee threatens to tear me apart like a lost little girl. The desire for Renee is followed just as quickly with an even stronger need for Edward. I want to bury myself in his cold arms and close my eyes. Was it really only a few hours ago that I'd been looking forward to doing that exact thing? His arms around me while he rubbed my back and told me funny hunting with Emmett stories?

I can't stand to acknowledge the sympathy in Esme's eyes and so I take her hand and hold it tightly, keeping it pressed to the carpet and as far away from me as I can. Like earlier in the woods with Alice, this is all the contact I can stand. The tears come, as helplessly out of my control as every other facet of this nightmare. I can't pull myself together no matter how hard I try. I manage a watery weak smile, wanting to at least ease some of her fear and whisper to her that I'm okay. I must look even worse than I think because she doesn't look at all comforted by my words. I lean my head back and close my eyes, allowing the dizziness to spin me as it will for a few seconds. I'm hoping for darkness again but what I get instead is Jacob. Random images flash like a berserk slide show behind my eyelids.

Jacob never knew the drugs were in the wine. He drank it never knowing for one second what it would do.

_I put the drugs in the wine. Enough to knock out a safari of elephants._

Leah's words skip over and over through my mind as I scramble to make sense of it. All of it. The Elder's decision to force the Cullens to leave Forks, using me as the incentive. Jacob, thinking he could still somehow convince me to leave Edward for him. Leah's vile bitter anger, driving her further and further into some weird kind of madness. I'd seen her. Watched as Edward's hand had wrapped around her throat like a slow coiling deadly snake. He was more than willing to take her life and she was more than willing to give it. And for what? For Jacob? For Sam? Or was it only just another facet of her madness, another impulse like the one that had driven her to put the Rohypnol in the wine in the first place.

Snatches of things I've read and learned over the years about the infamous date rape drug flash through my head only confusing me more.

_Jacob doesn't remember anything he did. His mind is blank, erased by the drug that stole his conscience just as much as it stole his memory._

The small amount that had gotten into my system had taken a huge chunk of my memory. Erasing it completely in places and leaving me with only scattered disjointed images in others. The thought that Jacob's own memories of this night could be possibly even more diluted and erased than my own is a thought I don't know how to rationalize. How could he not know what he's done?

And yet the Jacob I know could never have done any of this in the first place, and isn't that the real point I can't bare? Rohypnol can make people do things they would never be able to do, especially in high doses. Snippets of boring monotonous Health classes begin to come back to me. The shiny, glossy pamphlets and the crisp white handouts that I'd paid so little attention to at the time. They taunt me now as though there was some presentiment I should have been paying attention to.

The list of side effects burn off the page in my mind in a way they never had in reality. Anxiety, memory loss, aggressiveness, agitation, confusion, loss of impulse control...Violent behaviour.

Violent behaviour. The tears come faster and Esme says my name softly.

"Bella let me get you to bed."

I shake my head and swallow past the new wave of nausea. Releasing her hand I curl into myself and choke back the tears. Pressing my throbbing wrist to the floor makes the pain flare like flames, but it centers me, forces me back to the present. Esme cocks her head to the side and closes her eyes in concentration. Some of the tension leaves her body and she sighs in an almost inaudible release.

"The Pack is leaving," she murmurs quietly and suddenly. Just as suddenly Edward is there, kneeling like Esme in front of me. His eyes are dark, burning with the traces of his anger and rage, and I can see him making a huge effort to pull it back, to shield me. I don't need to have his mind reading ability to know how much he wishes I hadn't heard Leah's confession, but I won't pretend I didn't.

"Leah put the drugs in the wine?" It comes out of my mouth like a question, as though there might still be some stupid hope that I'd misheard what she said. I hate the weakness in me that makes me ask it. His instincts are as protective as ever and they make him hesitate before he finally answers with a small nod.

"Jacob doesn't remember, doesn't know what he did." Not a question this time. I can see in his eyes the confirmation. He would know, better than any of us if that was true or not. In the clearing, standing outside the fire circle he'd looked at Jacob with murder in his mind and he would have read his thoughts. I could see then and I can see now that it makes no difference to Edward. The only question now is what difference does it make to me?

Another wave of nausea more violent than the last hits me again and I can't help but whimper.

"Oh, please...I can't throw up anymore..." Pointless, I don't even know who I'm begging. The hot tears scald my cold cheeks and I try to shove up away from the wall, but my muscles feel like mush. Edward's cold arms surround me and I try weakly to push him away, thinking he doesn't understand that I'm about to vomit all over him.

"Shh, Bella, I have you." He has a bowl but he doesn't really need it. My body is giving new meaning to the term dry heaves. I can't stop them and the pain tears repeatedly into my side and down my spine. Blackness pricks at the edges of my vision and this time I welcome it. Anything, please just let me escape this. Humiliation at my body's traitorous disgusting human ways only makes me feel all that more pathetic. Why can't I get a grip?

"Carlisle!" Edward voice is strained and much too loud.

"Hold on, Bella." Carlisle's voice seems to be coming from a million miles away. His cold touch on my leg pushes the darkness away and I panic, jerking so abruptly that fresh pain makes me want to gag all over again.

"Hold her, Edward."

"Shh, Bella. Be still, love. Let Carlisle help you, its okay."

"Why...won't this...stop?"

"You're having a reaction to the Rohypnol and the Halothane in your system, Bella. You need to try to relax. I'm going to give you some medicine, don't move."

Cooler air touches the skin beneath my hip followed immediately by the sharp cold sting of an injection. Moaning in helpless frustration and misery I slump against Edward, unable even to find the strength to hold myself up.

"Bella. Breathe. Slowly and evenly if you can. The medication will help you but you must try to breathe." Carlisle's tone is both insistent and gentle.

The blackness prickles again and I manage a deeper shakier breath as the violent nausea finally begins to abate.

"Carlisle." Edward's voice is strained and tense. "Her breathing is compromised."

"Lay her down flat. Easy breaths, Bella. Slow and even. Esme, get me a blanket, quickly."

I'm coming apart. Shaking so hard my teeth feel like they're rattling in my mouth. Another sharper sting bites into the back of my hand and I groan, immediately knowing what Carlisle is doing. The sudden smell and the warm trickle on my hand make the fading nausea resume and I try to turn away, gagging. The burn and then the scent of alcohol take away the copper stench of my own blood and I force myself to breathe easier, slower. Everything is still dark around the edges and I can feel the grip of my consciousness fading still. Edward's cold hand soothing my forehead is the only thing keeping me from falling into it. I can feel Carlisle taping the IV needle to my wrist and I hear Edward's soft exhalation as he begins to tentatively breathe again.

"That's it, Bella. Good girl, just like that. Keep breathing just like that." A blanket falls around me as Carlisle listens to my breathing, keeping his hand curled around my side. "Esme, another blanket, warm it in the dryer first. Edward, lift her, carefully. Don't jar her at all, do you understand?"

"Carlisle...my chest...hurts." Pain separate from all the others is one thing I don't need, and yet the pressing tightness is rapidly making itself known above all the other hurts and aches.

Edward groans loudly. "Pneumothorax."

"Yes. Get her to my office."

"Air or blood?"

"Air. There are no fluid sounds. I'm going to try a needle aspiration."

Edward face is impossibly tense but I'm having a hard time focusing or caring. The pain is already subsiding. Whatever Carlisle gave me is making me feel as though I'm floating and it is such a welcome relief it makes me want to cry.

"Oh, sweetheart. Don't cry, its okay, love. I know it hurts. It will stop soon, just..."

"It doesn't hurt, I'm okay." For some reason he looks more panicked by my answer. He settles me against what feels like a hospital Gurney and I have to force myself to focus on my surroundings, to realize that I am still in their home and not actually in the hospital. I'm somehow not surprised by the fact that Carlisle's office seems to be transforming into a complete medical clinic. As if to prove my point, I watch Carlisle move across the room in that eerie mixture of grace and speed that they work so hard to hide. He opens a panel that blends so perfectly in with the others that no one would ever guess it leads to another room. A room full of medical equipment. My vision blurs and then clears, only to blur again.

"Alice, I need a 50 millilitre syringe and Lignocaine 1 percent. Bring the oxygen."

Edward's cool fingers brush the tears from my cheeks.

"I'm so tired," I whisper up at him, feeling sadness creeping around the numbness. That's why I can't get a grip. I'm just too tired. I've never been so exhausted in all my life.

Carlisle moves to the side of the Gurney and smiles down at me in his reassuring way. "Bella, you have air in your pleural cavity. It's compressing your lung and making it harder for you to breathe. I'm going to have to insert a needle into the side of your chest and try to draw the air out. You're going to feel much better in a moment, I promise. I need you to be as still as you possibly can. I've already given you some Morphine and I'm going to inject a local anaesthetic as well which will numb you. You won't feel anything more than a sense of pressure."

I groan at the thought of more needles, but manage a small nod. The pain in my chest is constant now and even more than before I can't seem to get enough air. Waves of dizziness make the room feel as though it's been built on a carousel. I close my eyes and let the room spin, listening in a detached way to the sounds and voices around me.

"Edward, get the warm blankets from Esme."

"I'm not leaving her. Esme will bring them when they're ready."

"Edward, go. I will take care of her, you know I will. Send Alice in with the blankets."

The cold touch of a stethoscope on my bare skin brings me out of uneasy doze and I jump instantly. The even colder grasp of hands pin me down and hold me immobile.

"It's okay, Bella." Alice's features are calm and controlled, almost emotionless. I can see she isn't breathing and it takes me a moment to realize why. I can't smell blood which means she's only being cautious. The pressure Carlisle warned me about is brief, and as it eases, so does the pain in my chest.

"It's better, Carlisle." My voice is groggy and I wonder if he can even understand me.

"Good. I'm almost done, Bella. Rest now." I feel the warmth of the dryer warmed blankets being drawn up over me. For a second it feels awkward to know that at some point my shirt has been removed, leaving me bare from the waist up. Alice places a cool kiss on my forehead and her sweet breath bathes my face, soothing me even further, making everything else trivial.

"Open the drip now, Alice." A slight tug on the IV makes me open my eyes and I watch as Carlisle adds a syringe full of clear liquid to the secondary line. Instantly I can feel the medication. Morphine, again. It tugs against my consciousness trying to drag me under and I fight it, suddenly afraid of the blackness that wants to pull me away.

"Carlisle...don't...Edward..." He looks at Alice and nods and I can feel the air stir around me as she moves to the door.

"Sleep now, Bella. Your body and your mind need rest."

"Jacob..."

His eyes turn suddenly, frighteningly dark but the touch of his hand against my hair is soft and infinitely gentle. "Let your family stand for you now, Bella. I promise you, we will not allow anymore harm to come to you."

Of all the Cullen's Carlisle is by far the most adept at hiding what he is. In that moment just before my eyes close, I see for the first time the dark that comes with the light. He means what he says. As the morphine dulls the last sharp edges of pain, I know that I've discovered the one thing that will make a man like him turn his back on his beliefs and his humanity and embrace his true nature.

Edward is suddenly beside me and I realize that I've been drifting. I can't fight the drugs or the tiredness of my weak useless human body anymore. I keep my eyes open through sheer force of will and force my fogged mind to form the proper words for what I want to say. Edward cups my face and his icy fingers give me one last jolt, enough to frame my words so they are something more than just a slurred tangle of vowels and consonants. I try again to say what Carlisle misunderstood as fear. I am afraid, but not for myself. I'm afraid for Edward.

"Promise me...you won't go after, Jacob. Promise you'll stay with me. I can't lose...you." Everything slides away before he can answer, but the look in his eyes sends me down into the darkness afraid and alone. Wolves with muzzles coated in gore and vampires with blood soaked iridescent eyes are waiting for me there. They circle each other and me, waiting in infinite patience for one sign of weakness. I can't tell if I'm the prey, or the prize.

**Charlie's POV.**

Damn what a perfect day for fishing. Sun's shining, sparkling up the water like a rich woman's jewellery box. Just the perfect hint of a breeze. Couldn't ask for more than this, ever. Just me and my 22 foot, Starcraft Islander 221 IO. My dream fishing boat, and a brand spanking new model complete with GPS fish finder to boot. Nope, life just does not get better than this. Well unless you count an ice cold can of vitamin R. I'm feeling a bit dry around the whistler, but I don't want to complain. Could use a little less fog on the horizon as well, but I'm definitely not complaining. Hell no.

"Charlie. Hey, Charlie."

"Billy?" I can't help but laugh as I watch Billy Black make his way through the water towards me with a big shit-eating grin. He has a six pack held up in one hand and his homemade sworn by fishing pole in his other. Hip waders up well past his hips and that stupid fishing hat he always insists on wearing for luck. I laugh again as I haul him onto the boat.

"Well, look who it is. Where'd you come from, Billy?"

"Charlie. Figured I'd find you here. Hell of a spot." He looks around with a grin. "Hell of a boat too."

"Yeah, you like?"

"Does a bear shit in the woods?"

Grinning, I gesture to the other chair and he sits with a small contented sigh, tossing me a beer. If I needed anymore proof that I was dreaming, Billy walking out to my boat with both legs as functional as mine more than confirmed it. So does the next perfect cast. I haven't missed my mark once all day.

"Perfect score," I remark with another grin. "20 for 20. Think you can beat it?"

"Damn straight I can. Watch me go." He rises to his feet and launches a cast as perfect as mine and I grunt in mock disgust.

"Not bad, not bad." He grins back and settles into his chair.

"So, Charlie my friend. Pretty sweet what you got going on here."

"You know it." I laugh again and raise my beer in a mock toast.

"You plan on settling in here?"

The fog on the horizon seems thicker and closer. I frown and check the skyline. "Thinking about it," I reply absently.

"Yeah. Sweet spot, like I said. Man works hard all his life, he wants a nice quiet place like this to go to at the end."

Billy's voice reminds me of the fog. Thick and veiled. I rub my chest absentmindedly. A small niggling pain has been getting at me all day. "Yeah, you can say that again." I can't quite remember what Billy was referring to; the damn fog is distracting me.

"Tired aren't you, Charlie."

He's right. I am. Bone tired. Tired in a scary not okay way. I shrug and try to push it away. The sun is gone and I feel a little chilled. Some weird beeping noise seems to be coming from the shoreline. Or it was beeping. Now it's just one long high pitched annoying buzz, droning on and on. I think it's coming from the shoreline anyway. Kind of hard to tell when I can't see the damn shoreline anymore.

I glance up at Billy, wondering if the fog is making him as nervous as it is making me. The chair is empty. He's in the bow, sitting quietly in his wheelchair watching me with an unfathomable expression. His lucky fishing hat is gone but damned if I know where.

"It's all going to hell, Charlie," he says sadly.

"What is?" Another sharp pain makes me grunt and I drop my beer. The can bounces and rolls around my feet. Oddly the scent that wafts up from the puddle doesn't smell right. It smells medicinal. Disinfectants and the inside back rooms of pharmacies. I rub my chest again and feel something sticky come away on my palm. I stare at in dismay. Blood. It stains the whole front of my uniform.

"Everything is. I thought I was doing the right thing, Charlie. I thought I could help Jacob and Bella both. Instead I just made everything worse. I screwed up, Charlie, and I don't know how to fix it. And worse, I don't think I can. Wheels have been set in motion and things are going to get even uglier before it's through."

_Bella._

_Jacob._

_My living room. The coffee table, broken like a plywood replica. Damn thing weighs a ton, made of solid oak. Took me and two of my deputies to get it in the room when Renee had bought it 16 years ago. How the hell does something like that end up in splintered pieces?_

_Jesus. Bella. My little girl, almost as broken as the table._

The buzz is louder. I can't see the lake anymore through the fog and mist. "Billy..."

"I saw his face, Charlie."

"Who's face?"

"Edward's."

_Edward._ "Ah."

"Yeah, ah. So you know then? What he is?"

_What are you?_

_I am the man who will care for Bella for eternity, long after you are gone._

"This isn't more of your legends is it, Billy? I'm not up for all that shape shifters and cold ones nonsense."

"Got a lot of legends in the Quileute Tribe, Charlie."

I snort and shake my head. "Nothing wrong with them as long as they stay what they are. Legends, not truth or fact."

He's ignoring me. Staring out at the nonexistent horizon. "Got one about soul swapping, ever hear it?"

"Sounds like a Stephen King novel."

"The Quileute believe that once death has its hands on your soul there is no way to get it back. But you can trick death. Give him another soul to replace the one he's got his hands on." He grins and winks. "Death isn't the picky type. One soul is as good as another."

"You got a point to this, Billy? Your beer's going to be piss warm by the time you're done all this jaw flapping." My chest is really aching now.

"Nah. No point, just talking."

My shirt is dark with blood and a few drops fall to the floor of the boat and mingle with the spilled beer. Red spiralling through gold. The fog is creeping in and curling around the wheels of Billy's chair.

Odd how disconnected I feel from all this. Guess that's what happens in dreams. Been a real long time since I've had a dream like this though. In fact, I don't think I've ever had a dream like this. "Yeah, well. You always could talk up a storm."

"Time to make a decision, Charlie."

"I'm real tired, Billy, and the fish sure are biting." The pain in my chest is fading and something big is tugging on my line.

"It's going to hell fast, and Bella's right smack dab in the middle. Gonna be a tug of war between my son and your son-in-law to be. Jacob's strong, but I saw Edward's face."

_Edward picks Jacob up like he's nothing more than a hollow rag doll. All 6 foot 7 inches of him, and throws him bodily through the window like he's made of air. Effortless. His eyes were black._

_My fault._

_Yes. And if you were not her Father, your life would be forfeit._

_Yeah, I saw his face too, Billy. Tell me about it._

"What's it going to be, Charlie? Time's running out and I think you might be the only one who can stop this. So, you gonna do your job, Chief, or you going to fish?"

My line is pulling taut. Whatever is on the other end is a hell of a catch. Probably my biggest ever. Sure would like to know what it is.

_Charlie. You will fight. You will live to earn her forgiveness, and mine. You will not add your death to her pain._

I use my knife to cut the line with a muffled curse and watch it sink into the fog and water with a tired sigh. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted...

The buzzing stops and the steady beep begins again before the fog rolls in and swallows it all. A strange voice comes out of nowhere, loud and intrusive, chasing away the last of the pleasant day.

"Welcome back, Chief. We thought we lost you there for a minute."

* * *

_The ping of the elevator is loud in the quiet hallway and the wheelchair wheels emit tiny squeaks on the polished linoleum tiles_. _An overhead fluorescent flickers and casts his shadow against the pale hospital walls briefly. He's not surprised to see that the chair makes a more distinct shape than his body. Seems to be about the way of it anymore._

_The soft whoosh of the closing elevator door blows a stale gust of dry air against his wet, tear stained face. The shadow wheelchair with the indistinct shape becomes half, becomes a quarter, becomes nothing._

* * *

**Pneumothorax - **A collection of free air or blood in the chest outside the lung that causes the lung to collapse. In Bella's case this was caused from one or more of her fractured ribs piercing the lung.

**Pleural Cavity **- The body cavity that surrounds the lungs.

**Lignocaine **- Local anaesthetic.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N Huge thank you to my amazing beta SydneyAlice and to all my readers and reviewers.**

* * *

Chapter 17 Cover Me in Dreams and Magic

**Edward's POV**

Aside from the sound of Bella's soft shallow breathing the room is silent. Esme has a book perched on her lap, though she hasn't turned the page in well over 10 minutes. Alice stands silently at the window, not moving and not speaking. Even her thoughts are quiet. I can see her reaching, over and over again into the future, but the visions she sees are covered in haze and mystery. As unreadable apparently as Esme's book. I close my mind off to everything except Bella, searching for her dream thoughts. I find nothing, not that I'd expected to. Since the opening of her mind by Charlie's bedside, she has remained as untouchable by my telekinetic gift as always. I do not know if it was a one time aberration or not, I only know that her silence now is so profound and all encompassing that were it not for her shallow inhalations, I wouldn't know she was alive. She does not even sleep talk though she has been unconscious for over 18 hours now. Carlisle is keeping her heavily sedated, determined that he will not allow her fragile human body to suffer any more harm. He is still furious with himself for the lung puncture she'd suffered falling into Esme's arms, convinced that it had been avoidable if he'd listened to and followed his instincts.

His absence now makes me nervous, despite her stable vital signs. Were it not for Charlie, I know he would not have left Bella's side. Her father has come out of his coma but his struggle continues.

Unable to bear one more second of watching Bella lying so still and quiet, I move to the window near Alice and close my eyes, searching in my mind for Carlisle's thoughts. The buzz of minds and thoughts becomes momentarily stronger as I search for him. The distance makes it harder, but the familiarity of his voice makes it possible to hear him in spite of it. I find him in Charlie's hospital room, and I watch through his eyes as he listens to a nurse reporting Charlie's current condition.

"Thank you, Linda." Carlisle draws the curtain around Charlie's bed as soon as she exits the room, and lays the chart on the bedside table. Charlie is still and pale. Dark shadows crease the space beneath each of his closed eyes, and he appears older and frail. The image alone would be disheartening if I did not know that his vitals have finally stabilized. My own medical training combined with Carlisle's thoughts however, remind me that patients far more stable than Charlie have been known to take a dramatic and deadly turn for the worse. The chalky pallor to his skin, and the extreme stillness of his sleep, show me that he is far from out of danger. He appears to fade into the white sheets and pale blue blanket. A mere shadow of his former self.

Carlisle's attention is drawn to the bedside table where an odd shaped small leather pouch rests. He picks it up, turning it in his palm, his thoughts going through several possibilities as to its origin. Eventually he places it back in its former place, and in a move uncharacteristic to Carlisle, he wipes his hand against his leg with a small grimace of disgust. His thoughts don't confirm the reasoning behind the action. It seems more instinctual than logical, and his mind focuses on a name.

_Billy Black. I can smell him here. Why?_

He resumes his examination of Charlie and his thoughts change to reflect only the numbers and statistics of his profession. After a moment though, he pulls a chair out and sits to stare broodingly at the object that continues to hint at something that won't fully disclose its secrets. His vision shifts between the dark grained pouch and Charlie, while his mind sifts through Native American legend and fact. He's both tempted and hesitant to open the pouch. Finally he leans forward and places his hand on Charlie's arm.

"Charlie. Can you hear me?" There is no response beyond the smallest flicker of eye movement behind Charlie's tightly closed lids. "I need you to wake up now, Charlie." Again, no response.

_He should be awake. His vitals are stable, heart rate normal, blood pressure normal. The sedating and paralyzing medications have all been stopped. Other than morphine to keep him comfortable he's receiving no other support. Why is he so unresponsive? _

Once again the pouch becomes the central place of his vision.

_Limbo._

The thought is quiet, without merit, and yet I can hear him turning the word over and over again, his mind searching for the meaning.

_Limbo. States of oblivion, confinement, transition. A place where souls remain that cannot enter heaven._

_I'm missing something, what is it? _

Carlisle stands, his thoughts now conveying frustration and puzzlement. He signs his name to the chart at Charlie's bedside, and I leave his mind as he leaves the room. I've found no resolve or answer there. Only more questions. Like Carlisle, I would very much like to know how and why Billy Black has been near Charlie. At this moment in time, no matter how strong the ties of friendship may bind them, Billy Black would have to know that his actions would risk further provoking the growing animosity and tension between us. What would make him jeopardize the agreement between us? And why am I more than willing to allow him to do it? That question is easily answered. I never wanted to make the agreement to begin with. My hand was forced. The more Billy, or Jacob for that matter, pushes the boundaries, the more excuses I have to break my word. I very much want to break my word.

_Edward. You have a visitor_.

Jasper's thoughts reach me only seconds before he enters the house. He's moving with vampire speed and precision, but my eyes follow him easily as he enters the room, drawing in with him the damp cool evening. The scent of the forest clings to his clothes, earthy and richly dank.

"Emily Young." He moves instantly to Bella's side and rests his hand against her hair. His eyes narrow, and I am instantly alarmed by his actions. Ignoring his announcement, I join him at her side.

"What is it?"

His eyes meet mine, but his thoughts are veiled. "Nothing."

The sudden coiled tension doesn't lesson with his answer. "Tell me, Jasper."

Frowning, his hand strokes against her hair. "There is nothing. When I entered the room I felt your emotions and Alice's, but I'm feeling nothing from her. It's as if she isn't even here."

"The morphine? Carlisle has her heavily sedated. He doesn't want her moving or in any pain while her body heals from the pneumothorax." I'm grasping and I know it. I've already felt what he's stating, and I'm not surprised when he shakes his head in negation.

"No, even heavily sedated I should sense her in some way. Even if it is only a haze of drug induced serenity. Human emotion is never absent, in any context."

"Jasper!" Alice's voice is panicked. Her mind shows me a vacuum where Jasper's future had been only seconds ago. When he'd entered the room she'd immediately allowed her vision to spin ahead in an attempt to soothe herself with their combined futures. Her futile efforts to see anything clearly in Bella's future, was leaving her more and more anxious. Now her fear is escalating and tangible even to me. Jasper instantly moves to hold her and the second he does his future appears as clearly as before. For a long moment she and I stare at one another with dawning realization.

"Touch her again, Jasper," she demands quietly.

Unquestioningly he does as she asks, once again resting his hand on her hair. Again the effect is immediate. His future and all it entails vanishes instantaneously.

"Can you feel her, Jasper," I ask, though his mind already shows me he does not.

"No."

"It's her," Alice whispers. "Bella is blocking you Jasper, and me as well. I didn't understand why I couldn't see her future anymore. It's as though her life is cloaked in fog and haze. I was afraid it meant..."

Jasper raises his hand and watches Alice. She bites her lip and shakes her head.

"Come farther away." Moving from her side slowly, we both wait until Alice's thoughts and facial expression reveal she can once again 'see' him.

Alice's voice is hushed and filled with awe. "She's a shield."

Moving to Bella's side I trail my fingers down her ivory cheek. Her skin is warm, her blood scent flares harshly in my throat as I allow myself to acknowledge the sensation. Her heart beat is strong and true, and her long eyelashes flutter briefly against the perfect contours beneath her eyes. "A shield," I breathe. "Of course." The pieces fall into place and form the clearest picture so that I doubt my own intelligence for never realizing this before now.

"A very powerful shield, Edward." Jasper's tone is reverent. "I've met several, including Aro's personal bodyguard Renata. None of them have ever exhibited an ability to block my power, and she's still human. When she's immortal, her power will only grow stronger. It's growing even now. She was blocking me in the Jeep after the attack, but this is something stronger, more complete. Then she was only exhibiting a power to keep me from altering her mood. Now she's stopping me from reading her emotions as well."

"She's not only blocking, she's projecting, Edward." Alice moves to Bella's side as well. "Tell me if she blocks my thoughts from you. I'm going to start reciting the Greek alphabet so you'll be able to tell whether she shields me from you or not."

I nod and she begins. _Alpha, beta, gamma, delta, epsilon_. Her hand hovers cautiously over Bella's arm. _Zeta, eta, theta, iota_...The instant her palm makes contact with Bella's skin it's as if a switch is thrown and the silence from her mind is startling and profound. As in-tuned and accustomed as I am to the almost constant accompaniment of Alice's thoughts, this sudden break is oddly frightening. She removes her hand, but the silence continues until she takes several steps away from Bella and then her thoughts once again fall upon my own. _Phi, chi, psi, omega_.

"The physical contact precipitates the inclusion. She's shielding herself so strongly that any contact naturally includes that person in her protective sphere." My voice is my own but the tone is tinged with the rawness of my emotions.

Emmett's thoughts break the chain of my own, forcing me away from my speculations. _Edward, I have Emily Young. She's asking for you. _I force my mind to focus on his. Through his eyes I can see her, standing warily beside her car. Emmett's presence is making her fearful, but she is holding her ground with a look of stubborn determination stamped on her face.

"Emily Young is here." I don't need to search her mind to know what she wants. Her fear is an open book. She's come to beg me for her mate's life.

"Wait," Jasper's arm grabs onto mine as I turn to leave the room. "There's more, Edward. Rose is watching the North Reservation border. The Elders and the Pack are returning to the clearing. They appear to be readying for some type of ceremony. They know she's there, but they are not acting with any aggression. I've already sent Esme to be with Rose. Emmett was forced to follow Emily here."

Emmett's mind is full of anxiety. It has gone against every ingrained instinct he has to leave Rose to follow what he considers one weak inconsequential female. Especially when his fears for Rose's safety compel him to be at her side. "Go Jasper. Get to the clearing, keep the situation as contained as you can. As long as there is no aggression, make no move yourself. I want to know what they're doing. Tell Emmett to bring Emily to the house and then he can join you. Alice, stay with Bella." I hand her my cell phone. "Call Carlisle, we need him here, now."

With every ounce of gentleness and tenderness I am capable of conveying, I press my lips to Bella's. "I will be right back, love. Alice is here, you are not alone." I allow the breath from my lungs to spill against her face as I whisper to her, hoping she feels some comfort in my presence. It is all I have to offer her now aside from one last promise. "You are safe, my own. Rest.

I will make my last words true if it is the last thing I ever do.

I wait for her at the front of the house. Emmett lingers at the edge of the tree line waiting until he's certain I don't need him, despite the fact I have already urged him to leave. He's eased somewhat by the fact that with Jasper and Esme, Rose is no longer alone. And by the fact that I've already assured him Emily's presence is not a threat. Her mind does not hold a capacity for deceit and it has shown me much in the past few minutes. While she steps from the car her eyes dart nervously around the open space outside our home, and her thoughts are easily read. Sam Uley has no idea that she is here. If he did, he would intervene and Emmett's presence might become necessary however, making his continued vigilance comforting.

Her eyes settle on me and she takes a hesitant step forward. I do nothing to either calm the sudden fear that makes her heart race, or provoke it. Despite her fear her voice is clear.

"Thank you for agreeing to speak with me."

I nod slightly.

"You probably already know why I'm here?" She laughs tremulously as she refers to my gift, and I can hear her thoughts berating her nerves. Again my response is nothing more than a slight tip of my head in acknowledgement. I can hear the heart beat of her unborn child, clear and fast and it mingles with hers in an odd maternal symphony. Her hand seems to hover for a small fraction of a second over the small rounded swell beneath her sweater, then quickly clenches into a fist and falls to her side instead. She has no desire to draw attention to her pregnancy, and the protective instinct behind her actions is once again easily read.

Tears appear in her eyes and she tips her head back with a sigh before looking back at me again. "I'm sorry," she whispers, "for what happened to Bella. For my own actions that brought all of this together, you can't know how sorry I am. I never wanted any of this." Her heartbeat slows slightly with her confession, as though the apology was the hardest part. I sense a pride in her that might just make my assumption true.

"You wanted my family gone."

"Yes." Emmett hisses slightly in angry reaction to her answer. She flinches at the sound, but stands her ground. Her eyes flare in sudden frustration and helpless anger. "You can't know, you can't understand what your presence here has done to the people on the Reservation. So much fear, all the time. It eats away at everyone. It's tearing my people apart."

"Our presence here is not, nor has it ever been a threat to the Quileute people." She knows this, but I can't help the slight feeling of anger that insinuates itself at her words, nor does it stop the instinct to defend our presence.

"Do you think that matters?" Her laugh is harsh and it twists the scarred side of her face in different ways than the untouched side. Despite her scars, she is a beautiful woman. "Mothers stare at their children and search their family ancestry in fear, searching for connections. Already all the legends and stories of bloodline are being doubted, not to mention Leah's transformation. Do you think it matters to us that you live differently from your kind, when not even our girl children are safe from this change? Superstition and legend run deep in my people, but every new transformation feels like an affront to many. The sides are divided. Good or bad. Evil or magic, and the line just continues to divide us more and more. Many people are packing up and leaving." Her tone turns wistful and sad. "It seems like every week a new family moves away, afraid of what they don't understand. If it continues, the entire tribe will soon be scattered and the Quileute bloodlines will scatter with them. We are in danger of becoming an extinct species."

"The bloodline exists whether we live in Forks or not. Werewolf blood runs in your people Emily. You cannot change that by removing my family from the town."

"No, but maybe we can slow the process. Your continued and strong presence is bringing out the transformations at an alarming rate; surely you can see that. If you and your family leave then maybe, just maybe, my child can have a chance to live a normal life and..." An expression of fear crosses her face as she realizes what she's said. She isn't aware that Leah has already revealed her secret. Not that it would have mattered, the child in her womb announces its presence as loudly as any human does to my kind.

I cross the distance between us in less time than it takes her slow human reflexes to comprehend my movements. I have questions of my own to ask. She attempts to take a startled step back at my sudden appearance before her, but I've angled my body so that the car is at her back, effectively blocking her. I've been away from Bella's side too long and my depleted patience has already found its end. "You are afraid for the child you carry. In trying to protect it, your actions started a chain of events that spiralled out of control and led to the mortal injury of one man and the near rape and brutality of the woman that is the only reason I have to exist." My words are a sibilant hiss, and she presses farther back against the car. Her only thought and concern is for her child. I do not need a medical degree, or the words of Leah's confession to know that the state of her pregnancy is tenuous at best. The scent surrounding her is fragile and unwell. She will be very lucky to carry this child to term. I step back giving her more room, and force my anger back down to deeper depths, schooling my expression into one of calm neutrality.

"Now, you come here hoping that I will somehow find it within me to spare the life of the man you love. The same man who, if he knew you were here, would gladly bring his Pack and slaughter my entire family in retaliation for even the smallest amount of harm brought against you?"

Her nervous swallow is followed by the momentary closing of her eyes. "He never wanted any of this either, you have to believe that." That she doesn't try to refute my words shows the strength in her nature. She is under no illusions.

"Perhaps. And yet he did nothing to prevent it either. What he did do however, was to take her from me by force and aggression while she was wounded and helpless, and that is something I will not forgive."

"Please," she whispers. "He is a good man, torn in ten different ways by everyone around him, myself included. You must see that. I am begging you for his life."

"Do you have so little faith in him then? Maybe a confrontation between him and I will end my life, not his."

"I don't want any more bloodshed. Either yours or his." I search her mind and find only sincerity in her statement.

"I believe you." A soft mist like rain begins to fall, and she leans against the car, sagging slightly at my words. The night is quiet around us, filled only with the soft sounds of miniature raindrops pattering against green leaves and damp bark.

"Why are the Elders and the Pack gathering at the clearing?" If she's taken aback or surprised by my question it doesn't show.

"A healing ceremony. The Elder's way of making some small offering of amends. It's for Bella and her Father" She scoffs lightly. "In some ways my people are still deeply rooted in nonsense." A softer expression crosses her face and she reaches into her pocket. I'm somehow not surprised to see a dark leather pouch, similar in every way to the one that Carlisle found in Charlie's room, appear in her hand. "Billy Black wanted Bella to have this. He asked me to bring it."

The sight of the charm - for I am now certain that is what it is - would have caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end if I had been capable of such a human reaction. Instead, a low growl rips from the back of my throat and I step back. Pieces of legends and myths float disjointedly through my memory. Things I've read and seen, studied and absorbed, dance just beneath my conscious reach.

"He knew you were coming here?" The question is harsher than I mean for it to be and she's instantly nervous again. I lower my tone, not wanting to stress her anymore than necessary. "He knew, but Sam did not?"

"No."

"Why? Why would you tell Billy and not Sam? Or was it even your idea to come here in the first place, Emily?"

Her brow furrows in confusion. "No." She reiterates with force. Small tendrils of damp hair become stuck to her neck when she shakes her head in confusion. "I talked to Billy this morning, but he didn't know I was coming here. If Sam were to find out..." She shakes her head harder. "He asked me if I would go to the hospital and check on Charlie. I agreed and he gave me this for Bella. He wanted me to leave it for her there. It's a healing charm. He said it doesn't need to be with the person it's meant for, as long as it's with a family member."

There was no reason to have Emily check on Charlie when I know for certain that Billy was there only last night. To ask her makes no sense, and it makes even less sense to provide a healing charm for Bella and have it left with Charlie. I search hard through her mind but I cannot find any further information. "Billy did not know you were coming here?" I ask again, only because I cannot put the pieces together. Both her mind and her previous words show me clearly that he did not. And yet he took great pains to ensure she would neither be present nor part of the so called healing ceremony.

"No, I told you that. No one knows I'm here. It would be too dangerous for anyone to know. I don't want to make things worse." Her words are quiet and tinged with defeat.

"Did it never occur to you that for no one to know you are here is very dangerous for you?" I ask absentmindedly. My mind is busy with other things.

"It was a risk I was willing to take."

I ignore her answer. The links are beginning to slowly fit together in my mind and I step farther away from her and the item in her hand that is causing my discomfiture. "Did you go to the hospital, Emily?"

"Yes, but I didn't get a chance to see Charlie Swan." Long elegant fingers close around the pouch in her palm, obscuring it from my view. My discomfort grows. "Your Father was with him. I didn't feel comfortable having him see me there." She lowers her eyes, her expression once again remorseful. The weight of her guilt hangs on her like a heavy cloak, and a small measure of sympathy mingles with my anxiety.

"Look at me, Emily Young." Startled by my formality she does as I ask. "A human life is too short to spend it in regret. You acted in good conscience, a mother wanting to protect her child and to offer it a life free from magical burdens. What happened from that point was not your doing. For whatever peace it may offer you, I bear you no ill wish." My eyes fall upon her palm while I speak. The words "ill wish" echo in my head.

"And Sam?" she asks, her eyes filling with tears. The rain has begun to fall harder and they mingle with the growing dampness on her cheeks, blending until it is hard to tell one from another. I growl in frustration and pace away from her. The headlights from Carlisle's approaching car illuminate Emmett, still standing quietly under a canopy of dripping tree limbs.

"You ask too much!" My words are loud enough to fill the open space.

"I know," she yells in her own frustration and pain. "I have no right, but I can't live without him, anymore than you can live without her." Her voice softens. "Please," and she begins to cry in earnest. It is the hopelessness inside that plea and inside her thoughts that finally breaks me. She has no hope of reaching me and yet still she tries. I move back in front of her again, lightening fast and without restraint. My hand slams past her side and into the tissue soft glass of the rear door window. It shatters loudly but my roar of anger masks it completely.

"Alright! I will give you this, but only this. If he stays away, if he never again meddles or interferes in my life or hers, or the lives of anyone around me, I will spare his life. But here me now, and never forget my words. Should he come looking for me, I...will...spare...him...nothing!" I curl my hand around hers and pluck the charm from her shocked grasp.

"Go to the clearing, now, Emmett. Watch everything. I want to know where Billy Black is at all times." Emily has barely had time to react to my actions and I see her look down at her now empty hand in confusion. My words are spoken in vampire speed and near silence; she hears nothing. The pouch feels oddly alive in my grasp and a feeling of growing revulsion tickles my senses. "And Emmett, if Sam Uley crosses a line, any line that I have drawn...?"

Emmett's smile, usually filled with joviality and humour is almost unrecognizable. Dark and sinister he is every inch an immortal vampire. A creature born in darkness and very much deserving of fear. "Then he is mine," he answers. He vanishes silently into the night.

Carlisle joins me and we disappear into the house. It is several long minutes before Emily gathers herself back together and leaves. The sound of her car pulling away from the house means little to Carlisle and I as we stand side by side and stare at the charm on the kitchen counter. The leather is soft and hand tooled, clean and supple in appearance and yet I find myself - like Carlisle's actions earlier - wiping my hand against my pant leg trying to wipe away the residual sensation it had left on my skin.

I can hear Alice humming softly to Bella, her own haunting falsetto version of my lullaby, and it soothes me. Through her mind's eye I can see that Bella remains quiet and unnaturally still in her sleep. I ache with every fibre of my un-living being to hold her in my arms, and the fissures in my heart yawn wide with the agony of not being able to do so.

"Billy wanted Emily to take this to Charlie. It is identical isn't it?"

"Yes." Carlisle answers, his mind churning just as fast as mine.

"She called it a healing charm."

"No." He vanishes and reappears almost instantly. The only sign of his movement is the breeze that flutters the pages of the newspaper that rests on the corner of the counter. He holds a large book in his hand, the cover faded with age bears the words, Ancient Myths.

"This isn't exact," he murmurs flipping quickly through the pages searching. "The Mayans built temples to the Gods and offered sacrifices to appease death in the hopes of sparing family members who were ill. Throughout the centuries thousands of such ceremonies, all different in ways but similar in one, have taken place in almost every culture." He points to a page with a dark and graphic illustration of a skulled and merciless death figure, hovering over a child. The next page shows death being offered the body of a young, virgin girl, which it claims in the place of the child who is shown going on to live a long and happy life.

"Emily said the Elders are holding a healing ceremony for Bella and Charlie. A way to make amends and to help them both heal from their wounds."

Carlisle stares at the charm, though he makes no move to touch it. His mind, like mine, searches continuously through the legends and the myths that we have been a witness or a student too in our combined 4 centuries of existence.

"Not a healing ceremony. If my guess is correct, and I believe it is, Billy Black is attempting a ceremony meant to offer a soul in reparation for Charlie's. And not just any soul. He means to offer his own."

"Why would he do that?"

"You read his thoughts in the clearing, Edward. He feels responsible. He blames himself for what Jacob has done and he's willing to offer his own life if it means he can save Charlie. The Quileute people are strong willed and of very strong faith. There is no shame in dying for someone you love, only honour, and Billy Black is a very honourable man."

I cannot argue with Carlisle's words. Billy's mind had been full of regret and intense remorse for the actions of the other Elders, and for his own part as well, limited as it had been. And no matter Jacob's actions, he is a Father who loves his son. He would have given me his life in an instant if he thought I would take it in place of Jacob's. Shrewd intelligence however, had made him realize only Bella's safety, and peace for the sake of my family would turn me from a path of revenge.

I reach out for the charm, wanting to know what the contents are, and Carlisle's steel hard grip stops the action. "Don't touch it!" Grasping the newspaper, he separates the sections and uses one to sweep the charm onto the other. He folds the pouch inside the second section and turns, making his way to the door. "This needs to be with Charlie. It never should have come here, Edward. I'm going to put it with the other where it belongs, before the ceremony is through." His thoughts show his fear for me, and I'm shocked to realize he believes my soul may be in danger as I was the last one to have possession of the charm. The fact that I do not believe I have a soul, is as usual, not one he will acknowledge.

I watch him leaving in disbelief. "You can't believe any of this, Carlisle?" He is a man of medicine and logic, and yet something very akin to fear crosses his features as he turns back briefly to face me.

"There is more magic in this world than just Vampires and Werewolves, Edward." He opens the door and Jasper crosses the threshold, wet with rain.

"The ceremony is over," he states quietly. "The Pack and the Elders have all returned to the Reservation. Esme and Rosalie are staying at the Border on watch. Emmett is patrolling the grounds around the house. There has been no sign or sight of Jacob Black."

An uncharacteristic growl of frustration tears from Carlisle's throat, and his mind is torn with indecision. He contemplates taking the charm to Charlie anyway, and taking it deep into the woods and burying it, but his ability to make a decision is hampered by Alice's sudden appearance behind us.

"Edward." Her voice is soaked in fear and her eyes are distant. Through her thoughts, I can see her searching through fog and a haze that is barren and desolate and completely empty. "Your future just vanished. I can't see anything."

**Bella's POV**

The circling of the red eyed vampires is relentless, matched equally in every way by the wolves. Every move I make is blocked by snarling wet slick jaws full of razor sharp teeth or by the wing-like flutter of the movements I can never quite grasp with my sadly inadequate human eyes. I ache in every way and the darkness is so thick I feel like I can't breathe.

A shadow figure moves towards me from the darker edges of the forest, bringing with it the smells of fire and burning herbs and flowers. The whisper of wind and the phantom crackle of flames tickle the edge of my mind with unwanted memories. The figure moves closer, but I can't grasp any definition to the shape. Fear is an indistinct sensation, twisting slowly over my skin like a sinister caress.

_Save him, Bella._ The words float on the wind, sharp with acrid smoke and images of dancing flames in a circle of fire. _Save, Edward._

I sink to my knees, too tired to fight, too exhausted to cry. "Please..." There is no power to my voice. I am lost and alone. The name Edward lingers at the edge of my consciousness, even as the shadow figure disappears as quickly as it came. The name comforts me, feels like my one saving grace, and I tilt my head back letting it fall from my lips. "Edward." I don't remember who he is; I only know I exist for him, because of him, only for him.

"You are ours." The slick silken feel of wet fur brushes my skin.

"She is ours." The red eyed voices are a musical sibilant hiss.

Edward. His image is suddenly very clear and with it comes a slow sliding peace. The darkness closes around me banishing everything else, and I let it begin to spin me away. I slide away from the nightmare, dissolving into a thousand particles that float down around his image, surrounding him completely.

"I am his," I whisper, and I swear I hear his perfect velvet laugh.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N This chapter has not been beta'd. Please forgive any minor errors but feel free to point out any major ones.**

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Chapter 18 **Dream Walking**

"_Edward." Her voice is soaked in fear and her eyes are distant. Through her thoughts I can see her searching through fog and a haze that is barren and desolate, and completely empty. "Your future just vanished. I can't see anything."_

**Edward's Pov**

Alice's words send an odd frisson of fear down my spine and I cannot help the sideways glance I give to the object still tightly wrapped, both in Carlisle's grasp, and in today's newspaper. Carlisle's instant panicked thoughts do nothing to alleviate the sensation. Despite being a creature that by all rights should not exist, I am not superstitious. Nor do I believe in magical charms or tribal ceremonies that try to trick death into accepting one soul for another. I find my fear based response annoying in the face of logic. No matter how hard I might want to believe that I have somehow retained a soul despite what I am, I cannot dispute the fact that my existence is an abomination against God. Even if the legends of exchanging one soul for another are true, I cannot lose what I no longer possess.

Jasper turns towards me. "More than just your future is gone, Edward. I am getting nothing from you either. It's as though you're not even in this room, standing in front of me."

"What does that mean?" Carlisle asks. His agitation is apparent in every word.

"Bella," Alice whispers. "She's shielding you, Edward. That has to be it, nothing else explains this.

I move toward the stairs, suddenly very aware that Bella is alone. Almost as one I can feel them following. Alice quickly fills Carlisle in on what we've discovered about Bella's mental abilities, needing only the short few seconds it takes to arrive at her bedside to do so. Bella remains as quiet as before, and I wait while Carlisle quickly checks her pulse and breathing. I'm intensely grateful to see that he has left the charm downstairs. I do not know what it is, but I want it nowhere near her.

Pleased with her level of sedation, Carlisle stops his examination and lays his hand gently on her forehead. He looks to Alice questioningly and she closes her eyes. Unlike her, I do not need to focus. His mind, buzzing with curiosity and anxiety only seconds ago, went quiet the instant he touched her. The silence and absence of his thoughts is unnerving, similar in every way to the feeling I'd gotten when I'd lost Alice's thoughts earlier.

Shaking her head, Alice opens her eyes. "Nothing," she whispers.

He turns a questioning look my way. "Nothing," I repeat. Like me, Alice struggles with the unnerving sensation of the broken connection. I hear her breathe a small sigh of relief when he steps away from Bella and the link reforms.

Carlisle's expression clearly shows his state of mind. He is quite literally shocked. "Amazing! My God, Edward, do you have any idea what this means?" He doesn't wait for my response. He continues as though he'd asked the question of himself instead of me. "All this time her mind has been silent to you, and we never knew why. _**This**_ is why. It is so obvious now. I knew from the very second I met her that she was unique in every way, but this? This is amazing. Just think what she will become when you change her, Edward. She's going to be so much more powerful than any shield I have ever encountered in all my years of being an immortal."

"But why, Carlisle?" Alice asks, reaching out and tenderly brushing her hand against Bella's cheek. "Why is she able to do this now? Is it the trauma?"

"Of course it is, Alice. Don't you see? She's protecting herself, instinctively and subconsciously. She has probably always done this on some level during moments of extreme mental duress. But who would ever notice or recognize such a thing?" He shakes his head and moves to the other side of Bella. "There is no doubt in my mind that what she suffered at the hands of Jacob Black has heightened her natural inclination to do so. Right now her shield will be at its most powerful, because she is feeling so intensely vulnerable."

Unable to keep still, I begin to pace, forcing my body to move within human limitations. "Carlisle. When we went to the hospital to see Charlie after the attack, Bella's mind opened up to me. She was upset and crying. I think she was trying to reach Charlie and I heard every thought, felt every emotion." His expression grows more fascinated at my words.

"Yes, that would make sense. Her need to communicate with her Father might just subconsciously lower her shield. In that moment she wasn't trying to protect herself, she was trying to reach him. She would have opened herself up completely, at least for those few seconds, allowing you to read her mind. But again, it would have been a purely reflex action, governed solely by her instincts. She doesn't yet have the capacity to control, or even recognize what she can do."

Jasper reaches over and gently pulls Alice's hand away from Bella. His expression is apologetic when he looks at me. Being unable to feel Alice in his mind is more than he can bear. I watch as her hand flutters softly against his face and she offers him a small brief smile of love and understanding. I want to tear the walls down in pure agony. Bella's eyes move rapidly beneath their lids, and I wonder if she's dreaming.

"None of this explains, Edward," Alice says. "If her shield is strong, it explains why anyone who is close to her becomes affected. Yet Edward was nowhere near her when his future vanished. I was using his future to check hers. Since I can no longer see anything in my visions when I try to look directly at her, I've been using Edward's. They've become so linked it really is impossible not to see one whenever I look ahead for the other." She stops, studying me anxiously. I don't need her thoughts to know how upsetting it is for her to lose both of our futures. Her expression conveys it all. "So much has changed," she whispers. "I can't tell what path you'll take yet. There are still so many variables, but Bella is always by your side, Edward." I can see what she says and there is comfort in that. Each image is still hazy, tainted as she's said by uncertain choices. Yet each one still holds a future for Bella and I.

Carlisle's mind has never really stopped thinking of the charm and the ceremony, but now his thoughts refocus with a new edge of sharpness. "Jasper, tell me about the Quileute ceremony. Emily Young believed it to be a healing ceremony. One they were holding for Charlie and Bella; some way to make amends." Jaspers mind quickly runs through what he'd witnessed for my benefit, and I can see clearly that Emily was indeed mislead.

"There were certain elements to it in the beginning that were very similar to what I know of healing ceremonies." Moving across the room he scans the shelves of Carlisle's books and selects one quickly. Flipping through the pages he lays it on the desk for all of us to see. Like the book Carlisle had shown me earlier, this one also denotes legends of death and the replacement of one soul for another. Unlike that earlier book however, this one relates more specifically to Native American legend. "It became fairly apparent quickly though that the ceremony had more to do with Charlie Swan and Billy Black than it did with Bella. Although, I cannot say for certain. Bella's name was mentioned on several occasions, but only in the beginning. The dialect they used was not Quileute, or even Chemakum, but a much older version with elements of the Hoh language."

"The Hoh dialect is nearly unknown. It hasn't been spoken for generations," Alice murmurs, turning the page of the book. Illustration after illustration appears, each one darker in content then the next.

"Yes," Jasper replies. "This is precisely why I cannot translate for certain the exact meaning of the chants the Elders were reciting."

Carlisle reaches out and closes the book as though he's seen more than enough. "But you are certain it wasn't just a healing ceremony?"

"Without question. They were not trying to hide it either, though they knew we were there and watching."

Carlisle's gaze focuses intently on me, his anxiety reawakening. Feeling the emotion, Jasper narrows his eyes in concern. "What am I missing? The tension coming off of you, Carlisle is thick enough to cut with a knife, not to mention fear."

"Carlisle is afraid for my soul." I'm unable to keep some of the disdain from leaking into my voice. It is a tone I've never used in relation to Carlisle before, and it is not lost on anyone in the room. I move back to Bella's side, soothed by the soft rhythm of her breathing and the burning scent of the life that pulses in her veins. Carlisle ignores my tone. He rapidly fills in the missing pieces for Alice and Jasper, while I ease my mind with the warmth of Bella's hand in mine. Her eyes continue to flicker and shift and I can't help but frown, concerned that her dreams might be nightmares instead.

"So Billy wanted Emily to take the charm to Charlie, but she brought it here instead?" Alice asks.

"Yes, and Edward took the charm from her. I was on my way to the hospital to put it where it was intended to be when you came in, Jasper. With the ceremony over, I have no idea what to do with the charm now."

Alice thoughts are instantly afraid and confused. "I think you should still take it there. If Billy Black means to give his life for Charlie then let him." I start to speak, but she cuts me off angrily. "I know how you feel, Edward and I know what you still believe. Regardless, it makes no sense to play around with anything we don't understand. Obviously the Elders, and especially Billy Black, believe there is something to this soul trading legend. Should we just ignore that?"

"You cannot have it both ways, Alice." My voice is tight with forced patience. "Either you believe that Bella is shielding me, or you believe that my soul has been sucked away by a deadly magical charm."

She huffs indignantly. "Edward, you…" She trails off, and even her thoughts grow momentarily quiet, making me look up at her quickly. "Just before your future vanished, Bella was talking in her sleep." She joins me at Bella's side, though she does not move to touch her.

"What did she say, Alice?"

"Just your name. I mean, I didn't think anything of it at the time, she always says your name in her sleep. I was really just happy she was sleep talking at all, you know how frighteningly quiet she's been. But the way she said it was…different. She said it several times and the first time she sounded almost confused, and the second time it was more like…a prayer, or a plea." She waves her hand in the air around her head as if to say it doesn't matter. "She got quiet again after that and I was just watching her, wondering if she was going to wake up, but she seemed settled. And then, very quietly, she whispered, I am his." Shrugging, Alice looks at me apologetically. "I know it doesn't sound like much more than normal Bella sleep talk, Edward, but it was how she said it. Like she was telling someone, like she was telling me." She laughs, but the sound is wrong. It lacks the musical note of amusement and she bites it off quickly. "It was eerie. I thought she was awake, but her eyes never opened and she never moved, but I swear I felt like someone was here, watching me for a moment." Shaking her head she moves closer to Jasper, seeking comfort.

He runs his hand over her back, offering what comfort he can, though his mind is rapidly running over every element of this night and the ceremony he'd witnessed. "Does anyone else think it is odd that she should be dreaming of Edward at the exact moment the Quileute ceremony is ending, the exact moment his soul may have been in jeopardy? And not just dreaming of him, but actually shielding him?"

Rising quickly, Carlisle snaps open his phone. "This is insanity," he growls. "We need answers, not more questions." He moves to adjust the port of Bella's IV. "Billy, this is Carlisle Cullen. We need to speak, now. Meet us in the clearing, we have something that belongs to you, and you have answers we need.

. . . . . .

The rain has stopped and the night has grown colder. The clearing is silent except for the breathing of the Wolves. Their exhalations steam in the air as they wait, like us, for Billy's arrival. They are wary and watchful, but their thoughts hold little malice in their intent. Their instructions are clear. Watch and wait. Leah is not in the Pack, and though I search each mind carefully I cannot find her whereabouts. As before, they are guarding their minds carefully.

I am agitated at having to leave Bella. Carlisle had woken her briefly before we'd left. Long enough to take care of her human needs and see her comfortably placed back in my room. As I'd laid her carefully in my bed, she'd clung to my neck weakly with one arm. Too drowsy to resist, it had been even more effortless than usual to untangle her from around me and my heart had nearly disintegrated with the need. I had pressed kisses to her cheeks and mouth, urging her with whispers to sleep. Carlisle had moved to my side and given her another dose of Morphine and she'd slipped away from me again. Only Esme's words had given me the strength to leave Bella's side and they echo through my mind, a much needed reminder of my purpose. _"Go, Edward. You know Alice and I will not leave her side. Your only concern now is her, keep her safe."_

I have promised I would keep her safe and I have failed. That failure will never happen again.

Old Quil and Sue Clearwater are due to arrive with Billy in a few minutes. I can already catch the trailing ends of their equally guarded thoughts. Billy is weary and drained, awaiting his fate patiently. Our request to speak with him barely seems to have him concerned, he has no idea what has gone wrong.

I turn to Carlisle to let him know what I hear in Billy's mind. "His thoughts are very clear. At midnight, he intends to take his own life. He has no idea that his charm did not find its way to Charlie, and he never intended for it to find its way to us."

Carlisle nods and turns to Jasper. "Do you sense the same?"

"Yes. I can feel hesitance and concern, but no deceit."

Emmett's mood matches Rosalie's. They both want an end to all of this, and the bloodier the better. The violence of his thoughts especially, threatens the effort I am making to keep my own calm. I place my hand on his shoulder in restraint. He growls softly and then nods in acceptance of my silent request. "Has there been any sign, Emmett that they know where Jacob is?"

"They aren't looking for him anymore. Is that sign enough for you?"

His words confirm my own suspicions. I believe the Pack knows where he is, but there is little chance at this time that I will be able to find out for sure. Billy's truck begins to slowly make its way into the clearing, and I force my mind back to the task at hand. There will be time enough to focus on Jacob later. So far, Sam Uley has kept his distance. Maintaining his wolf form, he's staying at the edge of the woods, vigilant and focused. His mind offers me little beyond the Pack mentality, but I've gleaned enough to realize he does not yet know of Emily's actions. She either has not told him, or has not returned. There are ways around their defensive tactics at keeping me out of their heads, but I'm only just beginning to figure them out. When I have, Sam's secrets will be mine.

Sue Clearwater pushes Billy's chair through the path the trucks headlights cut through the darkness. Carlisle waits only long enough for her to stop and turn his chair in our direction. I catch his decision only a fraction of a second before his action, and though I hiss in anger there is nothing I can do to prevent what he does. His hand reaches into the newspaper and draws the charm from its folds.

He holds it for a moment, his fingers curled tightly around the small pouch, before moving to drop it in Billy's lap. "I believe this belongs to you." There is a snarl to his tone, and his eyes shift to mine for only the briefest moment. He is now the last person to have held the charm after me. Despite the anger he directs towards Billy, his thoughts are relatively amused towards me. _You cannot have it both ways, Edward_. He mimics my earlier words to Alice perfectly. _If we have no soul, I am in no more danger than you were._

If anyone has a chance to carry a soul into dark immortality, it is my Father. Whatever I may believe about the magic the charm contains, I cannot help but be horrified at what he has just done. My only consolation is that the charm has now come full circle. It has avoided landing where it should have, but at least it is back at the beginning, back with the person who made it.

Billy stares at the charm, his slower human mind struggling to catch up and comprehend what its appearance means. Immortality has granted me a wealth of inhuman patience, but the events of these last 24 hours have drained all of it dry. I move to Billy's chair, not bothering with the false pretence of normal pace. The wolves growl low in their canine throats, and shift in their positions, unnerved. I ignore them.

"Your charm never found its way to Charlie. It found its way to me instead. Tell us what you have done!" Billy's mind sharpens instantly. His eyes clear, and the haze lifts from thoughts as he realizes what must have happened.

"Emily brought this to you?"

"Yes," my eyes shift to Sam who has frozen in his place at the edge of the clearing upon hearing her name. I hold his gaze. "She came to beg me for the life of her mate. She figured delivering the healing charm to me would be more than sufficient in fulfilling your request." I spit the word healing out with the full flavour of venom on my tongue. "Only it isn't a healing charm is it, Billy Black, and it was never intended for Bella." I lean closer until our faces are only inches apart. The wolves' growl again, louder this time, and I sense my family shifting in a protective stance around me. Billy holds my gaze, but he also holds his hand up in warning for the Pack to stay back. His fear of me is strong. His purpose to accept death however it comes is equally as strong. "Tell me what you have done!"

He breaks eye contact with me to stare down at the charm in his lap. Sadness and defeat spill through his thoughts and I growl with impatience. His self pity is useless to me. Sam Uley's presence is suddenly very strong, and I lift my head to see that he's returned to human form and is moving quickly towards us. I raise myself into a more defensive pose but he ignores me completely. Spinning Billy's chair violently, he grabs him by the arms, lifting him inches from his seat. His voice is a roar that fills the clearing with his fear and loathing. The Pack bristles and begins to pace and Jasper, Emmett and Rose fall into a crouch, ready to spring at the least provocation.

"What did you do?" Sue reaches for his arm, but he shrugs her off violently. He's trembling in his rage, ready to explode.

"Sam! Let him go, you stupid fool. You will undo everything!" Advanced age and illness have done nothing to quell the power of Old Quil's voice, but his body is no match for the power coiled in Sam's. He tries to push him away from Billy, though his efforts are useless against Sam's strength. Jasper rises from his crouch and instantly the tension recedes from Sam's form. I can see the minute adjustments of everyone in the clearing, and I can hear their thoughts turn from anger and confrontation to nervous surrender. I feel none of Jasper's influence myself. It is the first time I have ever been immune to his gift, and yet again the sensation is oddly unsettling. There is no peaceful end to my anger.

Sam lets Billy go and steps back, his breathing harsh. His thoughts reveal that Emily had indeed made it home and only the fact that he'd left her safely asleep prevents him from going for Billy's throat. He is aware of Jasper's ability and his gaze shifts warily to him, still tainted by the residual threads of his rage. He takes another step back, not trusting himself and points at Billy. "Billy, for the love of God, what did you do?"

Billy's mind is full of frustration. "I did nothing different than what we discussed. Exactly how we planned. I gave her the charm, I gave her specific instructions to take it to Charlie and place it beside the other at his bedside. She never questioned my explanation of it being a healing charm for Bella. I watched her leave and drive in the direction of the hospital myself. At exactly the time I'd requested."

"She went to the hospital, but when she found that I was with Charlie she left." Carlisle, as usual, remains the voice of reason. His tone is calm and yet commanding. "She had her own agenda it would seem. She wanted to see Edward, to ask him to spare your life Sam Uley."

Sam's eyes close, his thoughts struggling with this information. "She heard about Leah and the confrontation between Edward and me. I tried to keep it from her but I couldn't. I knew she was afraid. God damn it! I should have known."

"You were too concerned with ensuring she'd be nowhere near the Ceremony." My statement rings in the silence that hangs in the air after his words. He doesn't answer, but he doesn't need to. In his distress he does nothing to block his thoughts, and I can see the truth.

"It was for her own safety. This stress is dangerous for her now, and she'd never agree with the choice Billy is making. Even if she doesn't believe in the legends."

"Legends," I snarl, turning my attention back to Billy, who sits shaken and shrunken in his chair. "Am I supposed to believe in these legends? Are you really attempting to barter your own soul for Charlie Swan's?"

Billy's eyes snap back to my face, and his expression comes back to life. "Believe what you want. The legends have existed for thousands of years, and my family has passed down the knowledge of more than just our werewolf bloodlines, Edward Cullen. I can save Charlie. I can heal the wounds our actions have caused and right the wrongs that have been done here. If it takes my own life to do it, then so be it. I am an old man, and I've long since outlived even the once useful ties of my body. I will give you and Bella back what my son tried to take away. Charlie's life and her peace of mind."

The charm has fallen to the ground during Sam's attack and he stares at it now, his mind scrambling for alternative answers. "We need to start over." He turns his chair to address Old Quil and Sue, who have remained silent and watchful since Jasper's intervention. "Gather wood for the fire quickly. There is still time to undo this." Spinning again he speaks quietly to Sam, regret in every syllable of his speech. "I'm sorry, Sam. We have no choice now but to involve Emily."

"No!"

"Yes, be reasonable, Sam. Her life and the life of your unborn child are in danger. Death has touched her, marked her now, you know the legends. If she'd delivered the charm to Charlie before the ceremony she would have been safe, but she did not. She is the last human to touch the soul charm. She is marked, just as strongly now as I am."

"Then give the charm to me." He reaches down, but surprisingly Billy is faster.

"Don't be a fool. The ceremony is over, you cannot take her place and you are not human. I have no idea whether death has any dominion over you, but it doesn't matter anyway. I've spoken the final words and offered my sacrifice. Once that was done the chain was complete, and it ended with him." He points to me, his face a mask, his thoughts decisive and hard. "If an immortal or a non human can take the place of a human soul, he's already done so."

I move closer to Billy, my tone disparaging. "You speak of death as though it is a living, breathing, sentient being. As though it can be reasoned with through prayers and ancient ceremonial chants. Death is not alive, it has no conscience. It is nothing more than a natural conclusion; the same way that day inevitably turns to night."

"Then what are you, Edward Cullen? For there is no natural conclusion in your existence." He snorts with arrogance. "Death is not life. It is a separate element. A force just like the wind. It sweeps over us and carries us away to the next realm. I cannot stop death, or control it, no more than I can control or stop the wind. But I can place myself in its path, and use my soul to block Charlie's. Death cares little for the difference, it only has a quota, not a conscience."

"Charlie's condition is stable. He could very well win the fight he wages for his own life, and your sacrifice will be for nothing."

"Do you think I would be so careless? Charlie's soul is hanging in limbo, waiting because I've asked it to do so. How else do you explain why he isn't yet awake?" He turns to Carlisle with this question. "You know yourself Carlisle, that his rest is unnatural. You've seen it before. The patient that just won't wake up. Just won't get well, despite every effort and reason for them to do so. They slip through your hands like grains of sand, and you're left grasping and wondering why you couldn't save them."

Emmett growls low in his throat. Practical to a fault, he's growing weary of talk about souls and magic. "How do you ask a soul to hang in limbo? What are you, some kind of a voodoo witch doctor?"

Ignoring Emmett, he returns his attention to me. Behind him, two fires roar into existence fuelled by damp tinder and gasoline. The stench is ripe. They are racing to beat the clock now, and not only has Sam vanished, but Embry and Colin have returned to human form to aid the process.

"Death has its own scent, its own feel." He says, with something akin to desperation now. "You know that better than any of us, vampire. I went to Charlie's hospital room. I sat beside his bed and I prayed to both a Christian God and to all things Pagan and I found him in a dream. Lingering in the in-between, ready to leave this world for the peace and pain free promise of another." His voice takes on a singsong hypnotic quality that seems to affect everyone. A hush falls over the wolves, and stillness overcomes the humans. My family stands warily at my side, neither lulled nor unaffected, but something in between. The sounds of the forest and its living creatures slip away, and his mind shows me images from his dream, pulling me into his spell.

_Shaman._ It is Carlisle's thought but it matches my own exactly. And not just any Shaman, a dream walker. A Shaman with the ability to walk between worlds and between realities. Native American legends repute them to be the most powerful Shamans of all. Billy's mind shows me the truth of my speculations, as well as the fact that he has spent almost his entire life repressing his abilities and knowledge. Until now, when one plan gone awry in the worst possible way forced him to accept who he is.

His words continue, still oddly hypnotic. "I spent time with him there, and I reminded him of his purpose. I reminded him of Bella. The one thread you and he have in common. The love of a child, the love of a woman. The one thing in existence that can save any of us now. For only in love can we find forgiveness, and only the gift of Charlie's life will be enough to alter the path you are on, Edward Cullen. You have a gift to read the minds of many, but I can read your mind just as easily. If Charlie dies, a part of Bella will be forever broken and you will never allow such a break to go un-avenged." The wheels on his chair seem to glide effortlessly, bringing him closer to me and I close the remaining gap.

I speak harshly. "I have given you your son's life already, Billy Black. Jacob lives and Bella is mine. You can ask nothing more of me than that."

"And if Charlie dies; if Bella is never the same? What then? Will you keep your promise?" His mind spins out more dream images, and even I can feel the otherworldly quality to each fragmented moment.

"_It's going to hell fast, Charlie, and Bella's right smack dab in the middle. Gonna be a tug of war between my son and your son-in-law to be. Jacob's strong, but I saw Edward's face."_

"I saw your face, Edward Cullen. Right here in this clearing, less than 24 hours ago. If Charlie dies, and Bella breaks, no promise will hold the power to bind you. Jacob is a child. Arrogant and foolhardy in his youth. Eventually you two will cross paths again. I will do whatever it takes to protect my son, no Father does any less." He turns his head to Carlisle and acknowledges Carlisle's gesture with the soul charm earlier. "He would give his soul for yours, and no blood binds you. Do you think I would do less for my own child? Or for the friend I hold as a brother? Charlie Swan was never meant to die. That was our doing, the Elders, the Tribe, the Pack, we did that, we will make the sacrifice to right that wrong."

"And the wrong that was done to Bella?" I growl, suddenly impatient and free from his spell. "Can you right what was done to her? Can you fix the violence that left her body battered and her bones broken? Can you take away your son's vile, loveless touch and heal her soul?"

"No," he replies sadly. "Only time can heal her physical injuries, and only you can heal her soul. Just as only she can heal yours. I see that now, I was a fool to ever believe otherwise." His mind opens further and I can see Bella, lost in darkness and pain. Pulled apart by the forces that battle to own her. Immortality and humanity.

_I am his_.

The effect of his thought, his _memory,_ slams into me like a force that does not exist within nature. Alice's voice swirls with his images. _"It was eerie. I thought she was awake, but her eyes never opened and she never moved, but I swear, I felt like someone was here, watching me for a moment."_

"I'm giving Charlie his life, if I can. The ceremony tonight wasn't just meant for him, but for Bella as well. A soul trade for Charlie, a healing prayer for Bella. I found her in darkness, Edward, but I've given her the one thing she needs to return to the light. _You._ She will heal for you. She will overcome all of this for you, but most of all she will grow stronger so that _she_ can save _you, _before your anger and need for revenge consume you alive."

Carlisle steps closer, his mind working feverishly. "Time is running out. Bella seems to be shielding Edward, blocking my daughter from seeing his future, blocking my son from reading his emotions or altering them. Is that her doing, or yours?"

"Hers. Bella has always been unique, even as a small child I could see that in her. If she has a gift, she uses it of her own free will. I can touch dreams and I can offer my soul for another; I cannot protect or shield anyone."

"But you asked her too. You spoke to her in a dream and told her to protect Edward?"

"No. I merely reminded her of what she already knows. She must save herself and him. One cannot exist without the other."

The fires behind me flare brighter and hotter, and Sam appears with Emily. The headlights of their car adding to the sudden brightness of the clearing, until it almost seems as though the night slipped away on us.

"Only hours ago you were uncertain that my son deserved Bella." Carlisle says angrily "You were willing to manipulate and lie to try to force them apart. You believed your son was a better match for her. Now you spout a completely different rhetoric."

"Bella was never meant for a mortal match, it's why I always believed she would be perfect for Jacob." My low growl of displeasure at his words is ignored. "I was wrong, she was never meant for Jacob, she has always been meant for you, Edward. I was just too stubborn to admit it. Now, I've seen with my own eyes the violence and hatred that has overcome all of us. Violence and hatred born from fear and misunderstanding. I was a fool. I've lived my entire life as a fool. The bloodline of werewolves streams through my body, as does the power of a Shaman. But I turned my back on all of it, and then watched it tear my son apart when the bill came due for my ignorance and pride."

"You believe all of this, don't you?" I no longer know what I believe to be true or not. I only know that I want all of this to be over.

"Yes." His answer is unequivocal. "And time is running out."

Emily and Sam make their way toward us and the scent of burning sage rises on the wind.

Carlisle's mind is at war. "I cannot condone this Billy. Sacrificing one life for another is not an answer."

"Let him do it," Rose hisses. "His son nearly killed Bella. Will you have her survive what he's done to her, with her Father's death as a constant reminder, Carlisle?"

"It isn't your choice to make, any of you." Billy replies. He pushes his chair away and moves slowly across the clearing towards Emily and Sam. I follow him, my own decision made. I suffer none of the same dictates of conscience that assail Carlisle. Neither do my brothers. Their choice was made last night, the moment they'd both seen Bella's bruised and battered body. Billy's life is his own to do with as he wishes. I will stay and see this through to the end whatever the outcome may be.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 Breathe Your Life into Me

**Edward's POV**

They build the fires until they blaze as tall as a grown man. The reddish orange flames leap and twist into the night air, casting grotesque shadows on everything and everyone they touch. The starless and cloud heavy sky bears down while the smoke spirals upwards to meet it. Whether I believe in magic or not suddenly becomes irrelevant. Something intangible and present fills the empty space between each body; man, wolf, and immortal. A sensation of intrusion bears down upon me and I have to shrug my shoulders reflexively in an effort to dispel it. I sense Emmett beside me, mimicking the action, his eyes turning and searching out each individual and counting heads in his thoughts.

Billy Black is silent, his eyes closed, lips moving in a silent chant that contains no real words in his mind. Emptying the contents of the leather pouch into his hands he tosses them into the fire and I watch the flames devour them. A single lock of his hair crisps, curls and vanishes. It is the only recognizable item. A small hint of juniper wafts out on a draft of smoke and then nothing. The clearing is quiet. Even the wolves are silent and still, their restless natures tamed by the tension that does not relent, even after Billy raises his head and moves between the two fires.

I keep my distance, wary of the flames. The burns I'd suffered stepping through the circle of fire to claim Bella are still unhealed. The process slowed by the very nature of the one element that holds any dominion over our bodies. My stone cold skin was affected only minimally in comparison to what a human would have suffered and I feel no lingering pain from my injuries. Yet, like a human, only time will heal the injuries that both Alice and I have suffered. Fire alone cannot destroy us. I could stand within the flames for days, weeks, even years and not be consumed so long as my body remains intact. As such I have no fear of fire, but I also have no desire or need to be any closer than necessary.

The nature of this entire night has me feeling uneasy and on edge. Being forced to leave Bella's side once again is making me restless. The craving for violence and retribution is as strong now as it was in those first initial moments of discovering her injured. I am as eager to be back by her side as I am to unleash the full force of my immortal powers and slay Billy Black with my own hands. This charade needs to be completed however, if for no other reason than to finally end the Packs and the Elders interference in our lives. I search the minds around me relentlessly, keeping tabs on all of them. Surprisingly no one is seeking or wanting to stop Billy from his actions. Whatever resolve they have come to is equal and unanimous.

The wind picks up with a sudden violence, and my unease grows with each gust. Scents swirl and bombard me with a miasma of earth and fire, not to mention living and un-living creatures. The air currents spin and touch me, laced with humidity and a hidden element of menace. Ghost like fingers of something colder than the wind whisper over my neck, and I have to fight the urge to cringe away. Billy lifts his head and stares directly at me. His mind tells me he knows what I feel. The sensation grows, and Carlisle growls low in the back of his throat. He moves, positioning himself closer to me.

"Think of her, Edward Cullen. She is your anchor to this world, the reason you have to exist in the light, though you were born from dark. She holds you now and the power of her love is stronger than death, stronger than blood lust, stronger even than your hate." Billy's voice is strong and full of power, though his instruction is unnecessary. Bella is never out of my thoughts.

The wind curls harder around us, a dancing spiral that sweeps the damp dirt up at my feet, dries it and sends it to patter against my clothing and my skin. I taste it in my mouth, rich with the earthy fabric of life and the dank taste of decay. _Her_ figure dances behind my eyes, beautiful with a laugh on her lips and a smile in her eyes, her hair spilling around her shoulders. The girl of my memories, the love of my life. The same wind that hisses by my ears seems to be with her as well, and she tips her head back laughing as it blows strands around her perfect face. Pagan, beautiful, a witch and everything I have ever wanted and needed in my cold empty existence.

_Edward._

_I am his._

A fragment of the dream I stole from Billy's mind, or a vivid and lush fantasy? The whisper is born to my ears on the wind, full of the perfect dulcet tone of her voice. Her presence is so strong that I can smell her skin, her hair, the pull of her blood and her body so intensely I ache. The wind blows harder still, and sparks shatter and shower across the clearing from the fires. The wolves hunch their backs and lower their bodies to the ground. The humans turn, trying to find a way to avoid the ever changing currents, staggering under each blow. Only my family and I remain untouched, the wind buffeting our stone solid bodies the way waves of the ocean batter the cliff sides. Untouchable, unchanging and the hissing transmits itself to all of us. I feel them moving closer, bracketing my body as Billy voice turns from chanting to a roar that is flung in varying directions by the ceaseless wind.

"Tibiti, hayaka." _Strong versus weak_. "He is not who you seek, Death. He is immortal. Vampire. Beyond your reach, protected by a force you cannot break. He is the strength, you are the weak. My soul is meant for you, let him go."

_Bella, turning, laughing. I am his. _The wind seems to mimic the sound of her voice, a perfect copycat.

Emmett growls, his hand suddenly tight on my shoulder, his thoughts chaotic and alarmed. "Not letting you go, brother," he snarls in my ear. I have no presence of mind to answer. My attention is focused on Bella's image and Billy's mind.

"Tibiti hayaka". He repeats it again and again and I close my eyes embracing the Quileute words. Strong versus weak. I am not weak, I have never been weak, but I have found new strength, new purpose. Bella is my strength and I am hers.

_I am his. She whispers it softly now, her smile gentle behind my closed eyes._

I smile gently as well, despite the force of the wind against my face. "I am hers." I say it quietly, though my voice carries easily through the clearing and cuts through the wind. The stacks of wood within the fires topple, and the flames blaze higher with the full force of the fuel it is fed.

**Bella's POV**

_Edward._

_I am his. The wind cuts through everything. I am his. I have always been his, nothing can change that. The realization is so sweet I feel like laughing, like dancing._

My eyes burn, the pull of the morphine pumping through my blood keeps trying to drag me down. I can hear Esme and Alice, their voices panicked.

"Hold her, Esme."

"Try again, Alice."

"I am. Nothing! There is no reception, the wind must be interfering, I don't understand."

"Try again."

I do not know I am thrashing, or that my body is even mine to control. I feel weighed down and I realize it is Esme's hands, cold on my skin.

"Bella, please be still. It's okay, shh."

"Nothing!"

Something is howling, shaking the window panes, and when I open my burning eyes I can see the trembling of the glass. My head is full of the dream, of the two fires burning and smoking. Of the wind and the smell of death.

"Should I go? I can reach the clearing in a few minutes."

"No, she's burning up Alice. Get sheets, soak them in cold water. Bring them quickly."

Esme is tugging at my clothes and I batter weakly at her hands, needing to tell her something. What? I can't remember. The dream, the morphine, the pain in my side that won't relent. Her hands are cool, welcoming, but I have to fight the urge to succumb to the relief. I need to focus. I need to make her listen.

"Edward."

"It's okay, Bella, shh. Edward will be here soon, sweetheart. Let me help you."

I find it. The illusive thread of thought that I was seeking, and my body relaxes as I grasp it along with Esme's hand. Alice is covering me in sheets of ice that steal my breath and set my teeth to impossibly violent chattering. I want to scream at them to stop, _I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe_. Finally, I find air and drag it in on a shrill cry. Esme's hand is still holding mine and I squeeze it with every bit of force I can find in my traitorous body.

"Edward."

"Bella, please." Alice's voice is a panicked sob. "Just stay still." Their combined strength is impossible to fight and I try to remain as still as possible with violent shudders raking my body. Not even the morphine can touch this pain. I hold onto my thought, and to the last fragment of my dream. It occurs to me that the wind has slowed because I can hear my breath stuttering in my lungs now. I turn my face to Alice, forcing my burning eyes to focus on her perfect pixie features.

"Call him again, Alice. Tell him, he has to save, Emily. Tell him." My chest aches and once again there isn't enough air, but I've said what I needed to say and that doesn't matter much anymore. I'm so tired and my mouth is torched, my throat burning as though I've swallowed the flames in my dream. I vaguely wonder; is this is what it feels like to thirst for blood.

"Bella, stay awake. Stay with me. I'm calling him, Bella. He's going to want to hear your voice, don't you dare go to sleep. Don't you dare."

Esme is gone, though I didn't feel her leave. Alice is stripping her clothes away even as she's dialling, and suddenly she's under the sheets that no longer feel cold. She's pressing her naked cold skin to mine and I can't help but groan as new shivers emerge to mesh with the fading of the old ones.

"Stay awake, Bella, stay with me."

So cold. It bites into my skin like ice and I blink past the burning in my eyes to realize it is ice. Esme is covering me in ice. Dear God, it hurts and I can't breathe again.

"Stop...p pplease. Esme."

"I'm sorry, Bella. Just hold on, I know it hurts, honey. Hold on okay?"

I can't. I can't hold on. I can feel myself sinking and I embrace it gratefully. Anything, just take me away from this cold. It isn't numbing its blistering, tearing and biting into my skin and I can taste blood in my mouth from biting my tongue on the shudders that won't stop slamming into me.

"Tell him, Alice," I force the words out through my scorched throat, barely a whisper but I know she hears me. I can hear her cursing as the call she's placing refuses to go through. "I had a dream...he has to save her. He has to save, Emily"

**Edward's POV**.

I watch as Billy's head lifts from his latest chant and focuses on Emily Young. The wind is dying down slowly and I can see it swirling around her feet, licking up the edges of her pant legs. The wind changes direction yet again and she hunches her shoulders, her tiny frame lost inside a huge jacket that must belong to Sam. Billy's chants resume with a new intensity to every syllable. He mixes Quileute dialogue with the ancient Hoh dialect, and though many of his words are lost in translation, I recognize through his mind his sudden growing fear. A fear born into reality by the sudden tantalizing and sharp scent of blood.

Emily's shoulders hunch farther and Jasper hisses, drifting with inhuman speed back from the clearing, away from the temptation that sucks at his will power. If death has given up on me it has easily found a new and easier target. If I had been focusing on her from the beginning I would have recognized the signs long before now, despite the denial that is spinning from her thoughts.

_Save her, Edward._

Bella's voice in my mind and on the last tendrils of the dying wind sends a chill up my ice cold spine. Not a fragment of Billy's mind dream. Not a thought projected from his thoughts to mine, but a separate entity. The words are urgent, tinged with all the rich nuances of Bella's actual voice, as though she was standing next to me. My eyes search the clearing even knowing her presence isn't possible.

I've seen enough, felt enough this night to disallow my former certainties. Whatever I now believe is not concrete, but I have seen enough to know that something unexplainable has happened. Still, it isn't enough to make me move. Emily Young is not my concern, and I back away from the aroma of her blood. My thirst is powerful and threatening. The stress of these last hours has taken a toll on me, as has the violence that continues to reign almost unchecked through my body. I am not fully in control of my impulses.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Carlisle moving, even as Emily's knees begin to buckle. It is him who catches her, Sam's stunned reflexes slowing him down as her cry of pain reaches his ears. Billy's chants take on an even more desperate edge. The wind seems to swirl one last time around the clearing and then vanishes leaving a pure silence that blankets everything.

Carlisle lowers Emily to the ground and the scent of blood becomes even stronger. I can see the dark stain that spreads out from the juncture of her thighs and as the denim material grows sodden with blood, the heartbeat of her unborn child stutters and goes silent.

_Save her._ Bella's voice is distant now but no less demanding. I cling to her voice and the words, even as I rebuke them. I owe nothing to this Pack or to the fragile girl who lies in Carlisle's arms with tears streaking her cheeks. If it is her life death has chosen over Charlie's, I will not interfere.

_Death has chosen its replacement. Her soul was in its path from the moment she touched the charm. My fault. I should have never let her take it. _Billy's thoughts are bitter and sad, and I watch his face crumple. He seems to age before my eyes, wilting back into his chair. The wolves are restless again, pacing and whimpering as the smell of Emily's blood reaches them. Their fear and pain are tangible and strong; she is both Mother and sister to this pack. Old Quil is on his knees with his face in his hands, while Sue Clearwater stands silently beside him. Their thoughts match Billy's. It would seem that the price they will pay for their own deeds has come due.

Carlisle raises his head and his eyes find mine. Instantly he understands my stance, but his thoughts are harsh and without sympathy for my emotions. Rosalie has joined Jasper, moving away from the scent of blood that calls to our dark natures. Emmett remains by my side though he's long since stopped breathing, his stance frozen and unnatural. His discomfort must be acute, but he refuses to leave my side even though it would seem that whatever mystical power vied for my soul has found a new target. Sam Uley is falling completely and utterly apart, and there is no one else to help Carlisle. His thoughts center on me with demand.

_The child is lost, her life is not. Enough blood has been shed; leave the animosity behind, son. Do the right thing._

Turning to Emmett, I squeeze his shoulder. "Go. I'm fine."His eyes search mine and then he nods, vanishing quickly as I move to Carlisle's side. Pulling my sweater off, I fold it and find Emily's eyes. The smell of her blood leaves a taste in my throat that burns and makes every dormant cell in my body spark to life.

"Emily, you are bleeding very heavily. Carlisle and I are going to move you to the car, I need to touch you to try to slow the bleeding; will you allow it?" Beneath her copper coloured skin a paleness is taking over that shadows her face. She is hemorrhaging and there isn't much time if her life is to be spared. She barely has a chance to nod before I move my hand, pressing her knees apart and using my sweater to apply as much pressure as she can humanly tolerate. The heat of her blood almost instantly saturates the fabric and it seems unlikely that Carlisle will be able to save her despite his determined thoughts. We move as one, carrying her to the car that she and Sam had left at the edge of the clearing. Sam follows in an almost drunken stagger, his eyes never leaving hers. His mind is numb with shock and fear. I release Emily long enough to allow Carlisle to get her into the car, and grab Sam's shoulder in a painful grasp.

"Drive. She has only minutes if we cannot stop the bleeding." I squeeze harder, feeling the muscle and sinew contracting beneath my hand. The pain brings him back out of his stupor and he yanks away with a small growl. Diving into the driver's door, he revs the engine as I follow Carlisle into the back seat.

Her heartbeat has slowed and she's already beginning to show the signs of shock. A sense of déjà-vu swamps me and for a second it is Bella I see. I have to force my mind to reassemble the pieces of my scattered thoughts, and I drag a deep lung full of blood scented air in through my mouth. The appeal is limited despite my thirst. The strong scent of wolf permeates the car, mingling with her blood and lessening the appeal substantially. Grounded with the vision of Bella strong in my thoughts I focus back on the monumental task before Carlisle and I. My sweater is soaked and I toss it to the floor as Carlisle tears the jeans from her body with his hands.

"Sam, give us your shirt, quickly." His order is followed immediately by Sam, who seems to once again be functioning under all of his faculties. Without breaking speed he pulls it off his body and hands it back. I cease breathing again, only because it helps me focus. My mind traces back to the medical knowledge I've rarely used but never lost. There is little we can do. Lifting her increasingly limp body, I once again press the fresh fabric of Sam's shirt tightly between her legs, creating as much pressure as I can to slow the blood that pours freely from her womb.

"Emily, hold on, baby. Do you hear me?" Sam roars from the front of the car. Her eyes flicker and open, focusing on me.

"Did I lose the baby?" Her voice is barely distinguishable above the roar of the old Ford motor that seems tortured to keep pace with Sam's demands. Carlisle's fingers are pressed tightly to her pulse, keeping her upper body pinned gently down on the seat. I slide my knee beneath her back to keep her feet elevated above her heart, forcing whatever blood she has left to remain near her central organs. Carlisle responds to her question soothingly and without answering.

"Everything is going to be fine, Emily. We will have you at the hospital in no time, just relax and rest." Her eyes stay on mine and she finds the answer she seeks somewhere in their depths. A soft but no less piercing cry slides from her lips, and I speak quickly above the sound. Despair can equal death in one as frail as she is.

"Listen to me, Emily. This child wasn't meant to be. You will have a second chance, but you have to hold on and fight." She whimpers as I press tighter, a growing determination to see her live blooming in my head. "You will destroy him if you leave," I whisper, knowing that he can hear me despite my low tone. Her eyes focus and it only matters that she heard me. The street lights bathe the interior of the car as Sam races us towards the hospital, and in only minutes we are there. I keep my eyes on hers as we pull into the emergency entrance, using whatever power I might have to keep her focused and present.

As soon as the car stops I slip away, knowing I cannot be seen no matter the circumstances. I watch from the deeper shadows as Carlisle follows the gurney into the hospital. Sam weakens at the door, his feet locking to the pavement.

I speak to him, remaining in the shadows. "Stay by her side. Fight for her. She does not need a weak man now." There is a cutting edge to my words and he hears them perfectly. I watch his back stiffen in instant anger. He starts to move through the door, but pauses once before crossing the threshold.

"If she lives, I will owe you a debt that will be impossible to pay. If she dies, you're welcome to my life. I will be begging you to take it." He moves through the door, but I'm certain my reply reaches him long before the automatic door swishes to a close at his back.

"You won't need to beg, dog."

**Bella's POV**

_The clearing is dark. The fires have died down to nothing more than glowing beds of red and white ash. Billy is standing on his own, his hands held above them for warmth. He turns back to look at me and smiles sadly._

"_It's all right now, Bella."_

"_Is it?" I feel disconnected and lost. I know I'm dreaming though, because nothing hurts as I move towards Billy and stand by his side. The coals flicker, but whatever heat they emit does nothing to touch my chilled skin. I don't bother to focus on physical sensations. I sense I will have enough of those to focus on when I wake up._

"_Yes. The soul has been claimed. I wanted it to be mine, but perhaps there is still too much for me to do here for now. The Pack and the other Elders are tearing themselves apart. Someone has to stay to keep things together, at least for now."_

"_Charlie?"_

"_Strongest man I know."_

"_Yes." I smile thinking of my Father._

"_Emily?'_

"_She'll survive, thanks to Edward and Carlisle."_

"_I wanted him to save her."_

_He smiles gently. "Yes."_

"_Is it important?"_

"_Very. Without her the Pack would disintegrate. Sam would destroy everything, including himself. He can live without the child. So can she, though a part of every woman dies with the children they lose."_

"_What happens now?"_

"_Now comes your greatest fight, Bella." _

"_I'm tired, Billy."_

"_I know. But much rests on you now, little one. Two men live for you, breathe for you, exist for you. Will you let them down now, when they've fought so hard to stay with you?"_

"_I can't stay with Charlie if I stay with Edward."_

_He laughs and the sound is as light as the breeze that tickles my neck. "Every Father must face the day when he is replaced. Charlie knows this. He needs you now, but the day is coming very soon where he will give you willingly to the man you belong with. And maybe now, with so much in the open and the blinders torn from his eyes, it won't have to be all or nothing."_

_The thought of being allowed to keep Charlie in my life in some way fills my chest with a sweet ache. I've been forcing my mind to reconcile with the knowledge that I would have to walk away from him for so long, I'm not even certain what to do with this new thought._

"_It's Edward who needs you the most, Bella. You know that. Just as you cannot survive wholly without him, neither can he without you. He is an unchanging creature, Bella. His love for you, his need for you can never be altered."_

"_Edward." His name is the balm to my tired soul._

"_You've fought to save him, you've protected him. Now it's his turn to do the same for you. He can heal your soul and your body, but only if you fight now."_

_The exhaustion is a living breathing thing trying to drag me down, but the thought of Edward is what it has always been. My strength and my salvation and the bitter sweet loss of myself. We are two halves of the same whole him and I. I cannot leave him, and having him follow me is unthinkable. Not when an eternity of love and being loved is already offered to us right here._

"_I guess I should go back now." A small smile flits across my mouth and this time I feel the pain of my split lip. The bruises begin to ache and the white hot flare of pain once again takes up residence in my side and back. "Alice will be furious if I don't. Hell hath no fury like a pixie vampire with an entire wedding planned and no bride."_

_Billy smiles back, still sad and yet steeled in his resolve. His lips ghost against my temple. "Go home, daughter of my heart. You belong in a different world than this. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you, for the pain my son has caused you."_

_Jacob. My heart breaks for the final time as I think of the boy, man, I could have loved. It's on my lips to ask what will become of him, though in truth I don't want to know. Billy is already walking away, and he disappears into the shadows that whisper and writhe at the edge of the clearing long before I can find the words to ask. A sharper pain than the physical ones sears the insides of my heart, and as the coals of the fires go cold and black I wonder if I will ever find the strength to forgive Jacob for what he's done. I don't think I will. Hate still has a bitter taste._

_. . . . . ._

"Bella. Open your eyes for me, honey." Esme voice is strained. I manage to pry the fiery lids off of my equally fiery eyeballs, and blink at her wearily. Her own eyes are two pitch black orbs, darker than the night that presses against the now silent windows. Her thirst must be painful for her eyes to be so dark. I want to tell her I'm fine, tell her to go hunt, but Alice's voice distracts me. It is so close it seems loud, and I realize she's still lying beside me. Her cool skin is soft and welcoming, but her voice hurts my head.

"It's ringing, thank God."

"I'm okay, Alice." My voice sounds as desecrated as it feels, but Alice's panic is very obvious.

"Carlisle. You need to come home; Bella is burning up with fever."

Ahh, a fever. Well that explains a lot, including the burning eyes and the torture by ice and wet sheets. I manage a tired sigh. Edward is going to freak out. The good old Bella luck is still apparently in full bloom.

"I'm alright, Alice. Tell him I'm okay." I can hear the phone close, meaning she's ignored my request.

"Bella, shh. Just rest, okay?" She sounds like she's crying, or whatever the vampire equivalent of crying is. I must have really scared her.

I sigh, tired beyond belief. Sleep is dragging at me, trying to draw me down. "I wanted to tell you...about my...dream?" It comes out like a question when I'd meant for it to be a statement. Already the dream is fading, sliding out of my conscious grasp the way dreams are always so wont to do. "Billy..."

"You can tell me later, Bella." She laughs but the sound is forced. I turn my head on the pillow to face her, seeing that her eyes are as dark as Esme's.

"Where is, Emmett?" Her frown shows her confusion at my question.

"Emmett? I don't know. Don't worry, Edward will be here soon."

"If Emmett comes back here and finds you in bed with me, he's going to have a field day, Alice."

She manages another small laugh, one less strangled than the last one and her cool lips brush my cheek. The touch feels like ice, even more so than normal.

"It's okay, Esme. Her shield is down. I think she's going to be okay. I can see everything... It keeps changing but I think she is going to be okay." The relief in her voice is so strong I can feel it. Something inside that has been drawn tight loosens at her words, and I feel myself sinking into the bed, becoming boneless.

"Alice?"

"Yes, Bella?" She once again sounds like she's crying and I have to focus to stay awake.

"Are you delusional, or am I? Because nothing you are saying makes any sense to me."

"Oh, Bella." Her small face presses against my neck and her arms tighten around me. "Just rest," she whispers. Even as she speaks I can feel myself falling and drifting down into a peaceful place. Finally one without dreams.

**A/N Just a small note. Everything in Italics in the final Bella's POV is a dream. Feel free to ask questions guys, I always answer :)**

**Aleea**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N * **- This is a work of fiction, and as such I occasionally take liberties. It is extremely important to note a few things here in this chapter. Any fever over 105 degrees is dangerous and can cause brain damage and even death. Medical help should be sought for anyone with a fever of 104 or higher. Ice baths are sometimes used in the treatment of serious high fevers, but should not be undertaken without proper medical attention and care. Not only are they torturous for the patient, but I would imagine they could be dangerous. I am not a medical professional, so please consult one before making decisions about fever treatment. Fever information is a mixed bag; when in doubt, always seek medical attention.

**Disclaimer****.** I sadly do not own any of the characters in this story. Stephanie Meyer owns them all. I only own my laptop; the new callous on my pinkie finger from all the typing, and the twisted imagination that seems to compel me to torture Bella Swan relentlessly.

* * *

Chapter 20 Never Let Her Go

**Bella's POV**

The cold drags me out of a deep restful sleep. If I could come awake kicking and screaming I would. I want nothing more than to stay asleep, away from the pain that seems to be my new and constant friend. I can only move one hand and I use it to try and push away the hands that seem intent on holding me under a sheet of ice.

"The fever is spiking. Alice, what do you see?" Its Carlisle's voice, tinged with something very much like anxiety. Carlisle and the word anxious do not fit. He is the epitome of calm and professional. Someone turns my head and it makes me dizzy. I feel something pressing against my ear and whatever it is it beeps loudly, making me wince. I want it to be quiet, I want to go back to sleep.

"She's going to go into convulsions if you don't get it down, Carlisle. Twenty minutes from now. Her future keeps changing, you..."

"Fill the tub, now! Hurry, Alice. Don't look anymore. She's at 106. 3. Emmett, ice. As much as you can carry."

Phoenix. Desert sands and mirages of clear rolling waves of heat rolling off of sun baked tarmac. I fell once in grade 5. The playground tarmac was so hot it burned my palms and knees.

"I don't want to play on the playground today..." I try again to shove the cold hands away, but something catches my arm and a sweet scented cool breeze brushes my face. I turn towards it instinctively. Dark eyes meet mine, surrounded almost completely by purple shadows. Edward.

"Edward?"

"I'm right here, love." I try to focus, but my eyes feel as though they've melted. I can taste the heat.

"It's too hot to play outside."

Someone is tugging at my clothes again, and despite the heat I can feel tiny shivers making my legs tremble.

"I'm going to make it better, Bella. Just stay here with me, love. Right here. Focus on the sound of my voice." His voice is easy to focus on. Soft and silky, and each word feels so cool against the flames that are flaring over my skin.

The sound of water fills my ears, and the lights are suddenly harsh and bright. I'm in Carlisle's arms watching Edward tear his shirt from his chest. The sound of fabric ripping is loud and it drags me out of the heat induced fog. I'm in Carlisle and Esme's bathroom. Their huge sunken tub is full of water and small white floating crystals. The lights touch the surface making it look as though the water has a bumpy crust of shimmering jewels. I'm moving from Carlisle's arms to Edward's and his embrace feels so good. My thigh presses against his cold stomach and I realize I have nothing on but a small gray tank top and panties. I might be blushing, but the flames in my face make it impossible to tell. The room and Edward waver around their edges like looking through a camera lens that is out of focus.

Edward steps over the edge of the tub and I watch his jean clad legs slide into the water from someplace far away. The crystals part around his legs and I realize they aren't crystals at all. Ice. Ice cubes to be exact, and Emmett is pouring in another bag. The sound is loud in my ears. I realize what is about to happen only seconds before Edward begins to lower himself into the water. I stiffen all over, trying to kick my legs, panic bubbling to the surface.

"No, God don't, Edward... please, don't." My voice sounds hysterical and terrified to my own ears, and then the cold hits my legs and all I can do is scream.

**Edward's POV.**

I know the second she realizes what I am about to do. Her entire body stiffens and she tries to kick out in a useless attempt to push away from me. She begins to beg, her eyes huge and terrified and it takes every ounce of will in my body to force my arms to tighten around her and sink into the water. The temperature is nothing to me. Only the slightest trace of cool, but to her it is going to feel like she is being jabbed by a million sharp needles. Like her skin is being scraped and burned raw. It will take her breath away and make her heart literally stutter in her chest, if it doesn't make it stop altogether.

Carlisle curses softly as the thermometer registers a new number and my will strengthens. 106.8. The number is shocking and still rising and his fear is strong in his mind. She will die if we don't get her temperature down and soon. There is no alternative. The lung puncture and the broken ribs, the cold damp air, the smoke, the effects of the drugs; all of it compiled together have stacked the odds against her in a frightening way. Pneumonia. With antibiotics and care she can easily beat the infection, but the fever will kill her long before Carlisle can get enough medication into her frail body. Alice's visions spin with terrifying images and I know that I must do this to save her life.

Bella's pleas turn to sobs and then shrieks as her legs slip beneath the water. She is fighting me, but she is unbelievably weak even for her. It's as though I am holding a very small child instead of Bella. I drag her down until she is almost completely submerged up to her chin. The cold takes her breath away so that each new piercing cry is quieter and ten times more heart-wrenching.

"I'm sorry, love. My sweet girl, I am so sorry. Just hold onto me. It will all be over soon, Bella I promise." I don't know if she can hear my anguished pleas, but I repeat them anyway, desperate to find some way to help her bear this torture.

Emmett drops the last empty bag of ice at his feet and groans. His mind is almost frantic at her pain. To him she has become the tiny little sister he barely remembers from his human life. His protective nature is as strong as his body. "Jesus," he whispers. "Jesus." His eyes meet mine, full of panic as he hears her heart stutter. "Christ, Edward."

I have no room for him in my mind. Carlisle has climbed over the side as well and he kneels beside us cupping handfuls of water and dragging them through Bella's hair, soaking it from the scalp down. I keep my arms locked around her, striving to keep the sudden and extremely violent shudders wracking her body from tearing her apart. Her entire body seems to be covered in bruises and I know I am adding more. The last solid piece of my mind seems to crumble at that thought.

Alice is sobbing, moaning in her mind as Bella's cries turn to panicked wheezing and her future vacillates between grim and grimmer. Esme's thoughts show her curling into herself mentally and physically. Rose is outside, keeping watch but her thoughts show me she's heard and I can feel her flinching, anger and helplessness pouring from her mind like battery acid. Jasper is trying to surround us all with calm and it helps all of us but Bella.

"She's blocking again," Alice groans.

"It's okay," Carlisle barks authoritatively. "Just hold her, Edward. Just a few minutes." He is holding the digital thermometer at her ear and I can see the numbers going down in his mind. "Just a few more minutes, Bella. You are doing so good, sweetheart. Just a little longer." He is having to strive to keep his voice calm, something that normally comes so naturally to him. This harsh treatment is almost as dangerous as her fever.

Her teeth are chattering violently and the spasms that are wracking her tiny frame have to be causing her unthinkable pain. She drags in a trembling breath and I can feel her hot tears sliding over my neck where she has her face pressed.

"Ppp..ple..ase, Edward, please. Nnn no more." She begs, tearing me down to the ground with each stuttering cry.

_I will break my promise. I will kill Jacob Black with my bare hands. I will not spare him one ounce of pain. I will tear his limbs off slowly and scatter them around his dying dog hide. I will inject my venom into his torso so that he can feel the burn of hell licking his skin from his bones as he dies..._

"It hhhurts. I can't bbrr breathe. Edward..."

My lips against her forehead are still met by the impossible heat radiating off her skin. I kiss her again, blowing my breath over her face, trying to cool her and soothe her. She inhales it raggedly and sporadically. Her legs shift trying to find purchase against the slippery tub floor. Releasing her thigh, I tip her face back and breathe more air into her mouth, kissing her softly and whispering her name.

"Emmett, hold her feet," I growl frantically. I hear his hands plunge into the water and her legs instantly go still. He swears harshly under his breath, a litany of vile words with the hint of begging behind it. He is, and always has been, terrified to touch Bella, and he has no idea now how to temper his strength. "Don't hurt her; be as gentle as if you are holding glass." My words are a hiss too low for her to hear, but I can feel him loosening his grip through the vibration of his movements in the water. Carlisle is continuing to bathe her head, his eyes switching between the pulse he's monitoring in her carotid artery and the digital screen with the numbers that can't possibly go down any slower.

"105.9, 105. 6, 105.3" The litany of numbers is repeated for everyone's benefit and her heart stutters again.

"Carlisle..." I growl. Panic is lacing my tone, making it violent.

"A little longer, Edward. I have her, just a little longer. She's still in the danger zone. If we can get her to 104... Just a little longer."

Bella is no longer fighting. Her breath is scented with blood, and I realize she's bitten her tongue and the tender sides of her mouth during the hard tremors that have wracked her. Her blood has never held less appeal. The smell only means she is hurting and suffering while I sit helpless to do anything about it. She is still shaking and her eyes are closed, her heartbeat so irregular I cannot see how it can sustain her. I brush my mouth over hers again, breathing out heavily whenever she inhales trying to supplement her oxygen with mine.

"I love you," I breathe on an exhale, and her eyes open slowly to mine. "I love you, my angel, my life." She whimpers and I kiss her again, just a feather light caress over her red lips and her breathing seems to steady.

"105.1"

"Good girl, slow breaths," I murmur, continuing the soft caressing kisses that seem to be calming her. Another small whimper breaks from her lips, and I let my tongue touch the corner of her mouth tenderly. "I love you."

"104.9"

Relief begins to pour over me and if I could cry, I would let my tears mingle with hers. I sip hers from her cheeks and from the corner of her mouth instead. Her tremors are more frequent, though thankfully not as violent. Her heartbeat is still unsteady, but the stuttering has stopped.

"I love you, Isabella Marie Swan soon to be Cullen." My words are a soft murmur, and though my family can hear every whispered word they have all ceased to exist in this moment. Not even a life time of Emmett's most imaginative ribbing will keep me from saying the words. She inhales raggedly and I breathe out harder. "I will love you until the world fails around us, until the planet grows cold with a dying sun. I will love you long past eternity and I will never, never let you go."

"104.4"

"104."

I lift her carefully and Alice wraps a soft thin blanket around her while I carry her back to my room. Moving to lay her on the bed, her arms tighten almost imperceptibly around me. Her whispered no is full of fear, so I take her to the chair instead. I settle back, tucking her closer into my lap. Carlisle restarts her IV and I continue to brush her mouth, cheeks, forehead and eyes with soft kisses. She is asleep before he is done and she never moves as he gives her an injection of Cefuroxime.

"Her shield is down again, Edward." Alice whispers, kneeling at my feet when Carlisle moves away. Her mind shows mine what she sees, and I allow some of the tension to leave my arms. Carlisle's treatments will work, and Bella will be well in a few days. Her immune system has taken a beating, but she is already beginning to fight the infection and her body is cooling further in my arms. For once my cold skin and body temperature are a welcome and useful attribute.

Jasper is sending waves of serenity to bathe all of us, and Bella's body relaxes further. Some of the tension in his mind eases when he notices this. He has been plagued by the feeling of frustration at being unable to help Bella, almost as much as Alice and I.

A small storm has begun to brew outside. Lightning flashes, illuminating a room that is soaked in water and small rapidly melting piles of ice. Emmett enters the room with the mattress from his and Rose's bed, and Jasper removes mine while Esme carries away the wet sheets and bedding. Jasper and Alice dress the bed in fresh linens, silently and methodically, while Carlisle sets up the oxygen unit readying it for Bella. The movements of my family working together to care for her soothe the last of my fragmented stress. The anger and frustration settle into my core where it coils tight, colder than the ice bath that had cooled Bella's fevered body. I sit back in the chair, curving my unnatural body into the angles of Bella's, striving to make her as comfortable as possible.

Carlisle checks Bella's temperature again, noting out loud that it has fallen to 103.8. His hand comes down on Alice's shoulder and he squeezes gently.

"Go hunt, Alice. Rose and Emmett will take the first watch. You and Jasper can take over when you return. Edward you and Esme can go next."

I shake my head careful not to jar Bella. "No. Alice sees that Charlie is going to wake just before dawn. I will need to leave her then to be with him. Bella wouldn't want him to wake alone and I need to find out what he remembers, what he thinks." A small grimace crosses my face at the thought. Alice's visions of Charlie are still unclear. Until he wakes up and begins to make decisions there is no way of knowing what he will understand and what he will not. Or what he will do with it.

"You need to hunt, Edward."

"I will leave her to tend to her Father, Carlisle. But that is all. I will not leave her again until she is well."

He seems to understand the futility of arguing and says nothing more. Alice turns to leave with Jasper, brushing a gentle hand over Bella's cheek before she goes. Esme and Carlisle bend their heads close together, silently communicating in the way that they so often do. Emmett stands close to me staring down at Bella. His hand reaches out as though he wants to mimic Alice's gesture but he draws back quickly, his mind suddenly filled with anger and pain. Our eyes meet and hold.

"Find Jacob Black, Emmett." My words are so soft that only he can hear them. Even if Carlisle and Esme were paying attention, their hearing would have been hard pressed to pick up the level of sound I've used from across the room. "I want to know where he is."

My request pleases him, gives him a place for his anger. He smiles, though it is not a smile a human would recognize. He turns to leave but I stop him with a small hiss.

"Emmett? I want him alive."

**Charlie's POV**

_Time to go home, Charlie._

I've been floating in a haze of grays and nothing. In a vacuum of never ending emptiness that cradles me like a womb. I hear the voice and the words but the meaning evades me for several long seconds. The gray opens slowly, bringing a wash of color that hurts my eyes and burns away the fog in my head.

"Billy?" The croaking sound of my voice startles me and my eyes pop open. Grainy and full of dry heat, I blink at the objects that slowly pierce the last of the fog. It only takes a moment to know where I am, though the whys and how's are slower to come into the light. The pale walls and the medical equipment are easy enough to decipher. So too are the pains in my body. I feel like I've gone 12 rounds with Mike Tyson at the height of his boxing career. A dead weight on my chest makes every breath feel like a monumental effort, and the hiss of my breathing is loud in the otherwise quiet room. My eyes move around the room while a small spike of adrenaline races through my blood. Memories I'd rather I never have to relive begin to slowly resurface.

_Bella. On her knees on the living room floor. Her clothes torn; blood on her mouth, surrounded by shattered pieces of furniture. Jacob looming over her, a darkness in his eyes and in his features that I've seen one too many times in my life. The darkness of someone bent on destruction. The solid shocking heat of him as our bodies collide, and the knowledge that my strength is nothing against his feels as real to me now as they did in those moments. The sharp punch of something tearing into my side felt indistinct then, but I can feel it burning now, a very real reminder that the gun had indeed gone off during our struggle._

_Edward._ The thought of him, the memory of him, seems to coincide perfectly with the flash of lightening that reveals the person standing at my window. His back is turned, but even with just that brief flash of light I recognize him instantly and it feels as though my memory has conjured him into reality. A sharp stab of fear sends my heart into overdrive and he turns to face me, moving in that same way he did the night everything went to hell. Including my sanity. Because I damn well had to have lost my mind to have never seen before what I can so clearly see now. Edward Cullen isn't human. Not even close.

"Charlie."

"Edward." Jesus. I sound normal; like he's just showed up at my door to visit Bella, but this isn't normal. His pitch black eyes sure as hell are not normal. My heart throbs and the ache in my chest grows worse. He smiles, a sardonic upturn of the corner of his mouth that seems slightly mocking, as though he knows my thoughts.

"Where is Bella?" There is a slight quiver to my voice and I curse myself for showing weakness. He moves to the faded orange vinyl chair at the side of the bed, sinking down onto it with a grace that raises the hair on the back of my neck.

"At my home. She is safe; you don't need to worry for her. I promised you she would be taken care of, it is not a promise I will ever break."

He seems to have taken the seat as a means to calm me, like he understands how intimidating he is. Which I suppose he does.

I close my eyes, hating the weakness that swamps me. I am so tired. When I open them again I'm not certain if I'd fallen asleep or not. He is still in the same position, his dark eyes resting unwaveringly on me.

"Where is Jacob?" There are a thousand questions running through my mind, but this is the only one I seem to be able to ask. He answers my question with one of his own.

"How much do you remember, Charlie?"

I study his face, noting things I'd never bothered to notice before. Like the pale skin, and the eyes that should have been light brown but aren't. The hollow purple circles beneath those black eyes and the unnatural stillness that makes him seem almost unreal.

"_What are you?"_

"_I am the man who will look after Bella for eternity. Long after you are gone."_

"I remember enough."

"Jacob is missing, for now." His tone leaves nothing to the imagination. Translation, 'I am allowing him to be missing, for now, but not for long.'

"He needs to be in a cell. I intend to put him there, Edward."

"Your intentions are understandable, but misguided, Charlie. There is no cell that can hold Jacob Black. He is outside of your laws."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I spit out angrily. "Are you trying to tell me that he's like you? Because I might currently feel like I just opened my eyes, and I might finally see things I didn't see before, but I sure as hell wasn't born yesterday. I get that you aren't... " _What? Real? Human?_ "That you're...different. But Jacob Black is as far removed from being like you as a person can get."

He smiles with a slight touch of genuine amusement, but it disappears so fast I can't be sure it was even there. "No. Jacob Black is not like me."

"What are you?" The echo of the question rings hollow in the room. I'd asked it once and he hadn't answered. I ask it again out of frustration but a spark of new fear curls up in my gut as the words fall out of my mouth. I don't think I want to know. I clamp my jaw shut against the impulse to take the question back. I've never been a coward and I'm not about to start being one now. He regards me thoughtfully and the fear grows, turning the inside of my mouth to ash. Again that sardonic smile that does absolutely nothing to make me feel less afraid. He picks up a small plastic jug and the sound of water gurgling into a cup sounds like heaven. He holds the cup for me, placing a straw to my mouth and allowing me only a very small sip before taking it away.

"You don't want to know that, Charlie." A warning and an observation. He hasn't missed my fear.

"Maybe not. But I have a feeling I need to know."

"You need to know that Jacob is beyond your badge. You need to know that he is not beyond me. You need to know that Bella is safe, and that she will remain safe. Everything else is irrelevant."

"You want me to pretend? Act like everything is the same?" I am being as sarcastic as possible while a part of me wishes I could do exactly that.

"Yes."

I snort, but the pain in my chest turns it into a wince. He frowns and stands, moving to the IV pole. He reaches for it and fiddles with the electronic monitor at its base. The pain eases slightly and the lessening of the pain brings back the bone weary feeling, making it suddenly hard to keep my eyes open.

"I can't do that, Edward." The words sound mumbled even to me, but he doesn't seem to have a hard time understanding.

"No," he replies and this time I am more certain of the tinge of amusement. "I don't expect you can, Charlie. You are very much your daughter's Father." The amusement vanishes and his expression grows dark. "Are you more comfortable?"

I am and I nod, wondering what he did to the IV monitor. As though he reads my mind he answers the unspoken question.

"I've increased your morphine. In a minute I will increase it again so that you can rest in comfort. I know you are in pain but I need you to listen to me carefully, Charlie." His lays his hand on my shoulder and I start slightly at the ice cold feeling that penetrates through the thin hospital gown material. There is a strength to him that is carefully controlled, and I sense his intensity as he wills me to listen. I can't look away from his eyes.

"You were never meant to know what I am, and the less you know the better for all of us, Bella included. I understand that you cannot close your eyes to what you have seen, but I cannot give you the answers you think you seek. There is more to this world than you can, or need to understand, and that knowledge is dangerous."

His voice is soft and oddly hypnotic. My mind scrambles sluggishly to try and understand his words. "Does Bella know what you are?" A flicker of something very much like regret passes over his face.

"Yes."

"You just said the knowledge is dangerous."

"Bella understands the risks, she has made her choice." Again that touch of sadness. The fog of painkillers makes it hard to focus on it.

"I can't just turn my back on what Jacob did, Edward. He hurt her..." I can't voice my fear, or ask the question that burns the back of my mind. "I invited him into my home, I wanted..."

"I know what you wanted." The words are bitten off, spoken through a clenched jaw. He seems to make a visible effort to relax but his eyes are darker, betraying his emotions. Only a second ago I would have thought his eyes couldn't get any darker.

_If you were not her Father, your life would be forfeit. _The memory of those words and the threat behind them make the skin on my palms clammy.

"A part of me understands. You are a Father wanting to protect your daughter from the mistakes you yourself made, and you were not the only player in this...mess."

"But?" My mouth curls up as I watch his face. It betrays nothing but I remember his threat very clearly.

"I told you, Charlie. Live so that you can earn our forgiveness." He smiles with a more genuine expression. "You've completed the first part; the second will take some time."

"And Jacob?"

The smile and the softer expression are gone. The new look makes the hair on my arms stand on end.

"Jacob is not your concern, Charlie." There is a warning to his tone again.

"He committed a crime. I am the Chief of Police and that makes him my concern." His expression doesn't change so I change tactics. I don't know exactly what I am dealing with, but practicality screams that I need to get control of this situation. Even as I realize that trying to do that is a wasted effort. "She is _**my**_ daughter." There is a plea there, but if he hears it he ignores it.

He reaches once again for the IV monitor, his fingers moving so fast over the electric console they are merely a blur. I can feel the effects of more painkillers instantly and the edges of my vision go blurry. Leaning down until he is very close to my face, Edward's words follow me down into near unconsciousness, carried on his icy sweet breath.

"She is my life, my soul, the reason I have to exist. She is mine, Charlie. Jacob is mine as well. You will not interfere."

I'm not so drugged that I don't understand the warning or the meaning behind his claim. A word surfaces to the top of my mind, sliding in from my sub-consciousness. A name. The perfect fit. I force the lead weights of my eyelids open and see him moving quietly to the door. All those legends that Billy had told me, legends I'd mocked or laughed off suddenly make more sense than they should. Cold ones.

"Vampire."

There was no volume to my voice, but he stops as if he was never moving. He is perfectly still and unnatural, and the word resonates in my head. Pieces of a puzzle I never bothered to pay attention to fall together in my head. Not the picture of a cheesy, low budget horror movie or the overdone extremes of Bela Lugosi's Dracula, but a very real incarnation of the unimaginable. The drugs drag at me, pulling me under. The last thing I hear sounds suspiciously like a dark, velvet laugh.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 **Outside of the Light**

_And in my fear, I had to carry on_

_Where no one else had gone_

_Looking in a heart of darkness from above_

_To the man inside._

Heart of Darkness, by Chris Deburgh

**Edward's Pov**

"_Vampire"._

A small dark chuckle escapes my lips as I hear Charlie mumble the truth. I expected no less from him really. He is not a fool. He slides down into unconsciousness and I pull my cell phone from my jacket, dialling Carlisle's number.

"Hello, Edward."

"He knows."

Carlisle sighs deeply. "I was afraid that might be the case."

"He's still putting the pieces together, but I think you should be here when he wakes next time. I do not have the patience to coddle him, Carlisle." I don't wait for his reply to my comment. I do not need a lecture on patience; I merely need him to take care of this for me. "How is Bella?"

"Resting comfortably. Her temperature has fallen to 103. 5. The medication is working and her breathing is relatively stable all things considering. I don't think it will be hard to beat this infection, we've caught it very early." His tone is gentle, free from reproach despite my words to him about Charlie. I move down the hallway, listening carefully as I step into the elevator and head to the 5th floor. It takes only seconds for the elevator to rise up the two levels and as I step out and make my way down an unfamiliar hall, Carlisle continues to fill me in on Bella's condition. "Alice and Jasper are still hunting and Esme is lying with Bella to help keep her temperature down. She hasn't woken and I've given her more morphine to keep her comfortable. You should take some time on your way home and hunt, Edward."

The sound of crying is very soft, but our hearing is so sensitive that Carlisle hears it easily through the phone.

"Who is that, Edward?"

"Emily Young."

Carlisle sighs again. "Edward now is not the time for more confrontation. Please son, I'm asking you to come home now."

"I'm not seeking confrontation, Carlisle. I only want to talk to Sam. I'll be back soon. My phone is on if you need me." Hanging up I move into the hospital room, not surprised to find that Emily is alone. My senses detected that before I'd even stepped out of the elevator.

She senses me as well the second I step closer to the bed, though I've made no noise. Her eyes are tired and red from crying, filled with her pain yet she manages a small weak smile when she sees me. A smile I do not understand.

"Emily," I say quietly in greeting. She is being given a blood transfusion and the smell is strong in the air despite the plastic tubing and bag that encase it. It still clings to her as well, a reminder of the price she has paid.

"I didn't expect to see you here, but I'm glad you are."

Her thoughts erase my confusion. Despite her sadness over her loss she is grateful to be alive. The doctors have assured her that she will still be able to have children, and though it doesn't lessen her pain it has given her a new strength to bear it. She is thankful to me and to Carlisle.

"You do not need to thank me, Emily." Her eyes widen in surprise just before understanding dawns on her face.

"That mind reading thing you have going on is very convenient. At least you know I mean what I haven't said. You know I truly am thankful for what you did to save me."

I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. I have no reason to hate this woman and she has suffered enough for her mistakes, and even more for the mistakes of the man she loves.

Disregarding her desire to have me know her feelings, I ask where Sam is.

"He went to get me a drink. He should be back any minute." Her thoughts once again give away her feelings before she can speak them. "Edward, please. I know you want some kind of revenge for what was done to Bella and to Charlie, but hasn't there been enough pain?"

I can feel the ice cold ball of anger in my core that I have swallowed so many times I can no longer feel my throat. The burn of my thirst has even been numbed to the point where the strong blood smell affects me in no real noticeable way. It twists inside of me and touches my expression enough that she flinches slightly. I no longer have the strength to mask it.

"Edward." Sam's voice is a hiss as he enters the room. I had caught the smell of his approach long before, and I don't turn in reaction to his tone. I hold out my hand to Emily and she takes it immediately, despite Sam's second deeper growl of displeasure. He moves almost between us though I ignore him and keep my eyes on hers.

"I made you a promise, Emily. I will not break it. Rest now and get well, you have nothing to fear from me." Brushing my cold thumb once against her palm I release it and turn to him. "I would like to speak to you alone, Sam." Without waiting for a reply I leave the room quickly and slip into a vacant one down the hall. He follows as I'd known he would. His posture is defensive and angry, though he is controlling it well. His mind is confused between his gratefulness and his instincts.

"Thank you," I murmur quietly. "I know you don't want to be far from her now. I will not take much of your time." He's instantly taken aback by my civilized tone, and then just as quickly suspicious. It is much too easy for him to read the underlying emotions my body cannot hide. The tight fists I can't unfurl and the darkness of my eyes, unnatural against the paleness of my face.

"I owe you her life. It's a debt I can't repay." His tone is full of his conflicting emotions. Regret, shame, anger, fear but most of all the bitter taste of having to swallow his pride. The same pride that has been his undoing. The sense of it twists the ball of ice harder. My eyes flash with the sensation, making him instantly more wary.

"I saved her for her, not for you." He nods, his features and his mind unsurprised by my words. "I made her a promise. Your heart beats in your chest right now because of that promise and only that promise. If you owe a debt to anyone it is to her." He blanches, and his own fists curl at his sides.

"I'm not asking you to keep that promise, Vampire." The words are bitten out through his clenched teeth, and I can see the fine tremors that skim his body. "If there is unfinished business between you and me then by all means, let's finish it."

"Tempting, werewolf, very tempting, but I'm done with you. I will not forgive you for what has been done, but you've paid a price even greater than what I would have taken from you. No matter how tempting, I will not make Emily suffer any further." Not unless he gives me a new reason, which I honestly hope he does. My promise to her is a weakness I dislike intensely.

Moving away from him in an effort to control that cold rage that laps up from my middle and curls menacingly close to my spine, I inhale the stale odours of the frail unwell humans around me. I am not capable of being tired and I no longer remember the sensation that had surely overcome me during my human years. Yet the feeling that consumes me now is probably as close as I will ever come and it makes me want nothing more than a quiet place. Images of holding Bella in our quiet meadow torment me with need and I promise myself - _soon_.

"Then what is it you want?" His mind is full of suspicions, all of them accurate.

"You know what I want."

"Jacob."

"Yes."

"And you expect me to hand him to you on some silver platter, like a gesture of goodwill?" His voice is a low growl, and his entire body trembles slightly.

"No. I would not ask the impossible." He's taken aback by my unexpected answer. That is exactly what he feels I expected. "Besides, I do not need you to tell me where he is. It is only a matter of time before I find him myself."

A low snarl erupts from his throat in a threatening way, but I don't react. Moving to the window I stare down at a small empty garden below.

"You made another vow, or have you forgotten it already?"

My hands curl into even tighter fists and the ice ball cracks, sending tiny splinters to spiral through the venom that has replaced the blood in my blood stream. The coldness sweeps through my entire body. "I haven't forgotten." I turn back to face him and he blanches again at whatever he reads in my expression.

"You can't win this, Edward. Jacob is stronger than you think. Even if you could kill him, his death would mean war and you know it."

"Not if you let him choose." The words hang in the space between us, nothing but his unsteady breathing marking the passage of time as the seconds tick by. He scrambles to find the meaning in my words.

"Jacob is the true Alpha, Sam. Only his reluctance to take his place as the head of the Pack has allowed you to control him and you know it. I have seen his thoughts and yours. He blames me just as much as I blame him, and only your command is holding him from coming to find me." His fists flex and re-curl. I see the truth of my words in the images he can't suppress. _Jacob on his knees, howling with only the force of an Alpha command binding him to the ground._ Without it he would have come looking for me long ago. "He alone has the true power to change the treaty and you know it. He can overrule you in a heartbeat. Allow him to make the choice, to choose whether or not he wants to finish this between us. Let...him...choose."

"No. Even if I was willing to step down, Jacob isn't capable of making decisions. The drugs have messed him up. He doesn't even remember what he's done..."

I step closer to him allowing my voice to slip into a velvet cadence. "The drugs are an excuse; Jacob has been on a downward spiral for months. My engagement to Bella is the catalyst that finally tipped the scales for him. Even without the drugs he was willing to act, to try and take her away from me. You know this as well as I do. He used your own tactics against you and nothing you can do now will stop the inevitable confrontation between us." I give him another second to absorb my statement and the curtain of his mind slips further, allowing me to see his thoughts with even more clarity. "Let him choose, Sam Uley. Nothing more, nothing less, and all of this will end with him and I."

Instantly he catches the hidden meaning behind my words and Leah Clearwater's image pierces through the barriers he'd erected to try to keep me out. He understands very well the offer I am making. If I say it ends with Jacob and I, then there is no reason for him to fear for her safety. His back stiffens and every instinct in him comes to a head. He battles it back in silent anger and when the tremors are once again only mild shocks that skate over his body, he meets my eyes once again.

"Let this go, Edward. I owe you, but this isn't mine to give. The Pack is not singular, I can't make a decision like this alone and you know it. Even if I could, he is my brother. I won't allow him to destroy himself anymore than he already has." His words are final and he turns to leave. I let him go, a small smile playing around my mouth. I expected nothing else. His mind however, has given me exactly what I knew it would. Jacob Black is being held by a thread. It is only a matter of time before it snaps and Sam knows it.

**Charlie's POV.**

It takes a long moment for the world to readjust when I open my eyes again. I feel like two separate people. The old Charlie, and this new one. One who has to face up to a whole new kind of reality. One thing is certain; I'm not doing it from here. I try to get my body moving and it doesn't take any time at all to realize that is going to be a hell of a lot easier said than done. My legs and arms are stiff from too little activity, and the drugs are weighing me down like a two ton truck. The pain in my side and my chest is negligent when I stay still, but the second I shift even one muscle it becomes its own separate entity. Between that and the tubes and wires I'm not going anywhere.

"God damn it!"

A soft laugh follows my expletive, and it's the first time I realize I am not alone. Carlisle Cullen steps from the shadows and more pieces of the puzzle fit together with an almost loud snick in my head. He's the same as Edward. The same pale skin, the same dark shadow bruised eyes, the same aura of something completely alien surrounding him. The fear kicks my heart into overdrive and his smile fades to a frown.

He lays the clipboard he'd been holding on the table, reaching for the stethoscope around his neck. I don't want him to touch me. The feeling and the fear are instinctual now that my eyes are wide open.

"I'm fine." My voice is a weak croak, but it's enough to make him hesitate. He nods, allowing the stethoscope to fall back around his neck, understanding dawning in his eyes. He settles into the same chair his 'son' had occupied only a few hours ago.

"You don't need to be afraid, Charlie," he says quietly in that oddly musical, velvet voice. More pieces fit together. _All of them. The whole family. Jesus_. "I understand that all of this is very alarming."

"Where's Bella?"

"At our home, safe, cared for." His answer is the same as Edward's. I don't have any reason not to believe him and yet my new understanding makes me suddenly feel ill.

"I want to see her." I watch his face carefully. Years of police training and experience have taught me to read faces, but not ones made of stone. Still I catch a flicker of something that makes my heart rate pick up again. I push my muscles to move, trying to force my body to obey my mind. His hand is hard and cold on my shoulder as he presses me gently but forcefully back to the bed.

"You're going to cause more harm to yourself, Charlie. Relax. I will tell you anything you want to know. Trust me; Bella is being cared for completely."

There isn't any point in trying to move again. I'm as weak and as useless as a newborn baby and something tells me that even if I wasn't I'm no match for him, not in any way. "You keep saying she's cared for," the breath hisses out of my lungs and his eyes scan over my face and body obviously concerned. "What does that mean?"

He steps back and sits down again. "Bella suffered some injuries during the attack."

I wince and turn my eyes to the ceiling, though I can still feel his eyes on me as he hesitates, no doubt wondering how much he should tell me. _Man up Charlie_, I berate myself. _This is your daughter, and this is your fault. Suck it up, this isn't about you, it's about her._ "What injuries?"

"She has two fractured ribs, a broken wrist, numerous contusions that are causing severe bruising and swelling." His voice is quiet, a physician quoting statistics and yet I catch an undercurrent that goes deeper. A ridge of anger and protectiveness. I force myself to meet his eyes and he continues. "One of the ribs is broken in several places. A splintered end created a small puncture in her lung and the complications have created an infection. She has pneumonia and a high fever that I am treating aggressively. She is already responding better than I could have hoped. Physically, like you, she needs time to heal. I've walked away from my hospital duties and Bella is now my only concern. I've only left her to be here with you for a short time, and I've left her in good hands." He smiles slightly. "My son is as qualified and capable as I am to care for her."

"Edward?"

"Yes."

A dozen questions race through my head at that comment, but none of them make their way to my mouth. "You said physically she'll heal, Carlisle. I need to know if...did Jac...did he," Sucking in a deep painful breath I force the words past my suddenly numb throat, my fists clenching in the overly starched bedding. "Did he rape her?"

"No." Something deep inside that had been clenched so hard for so long finally let's go. I feel the embarrassing sting of tears slide from the corners of my eyes.

"I guess I knew that," I mutter more to myself than to him. I don't tell him why I knew it. Whatever understanding I have of Edward might be limited, but I get this much. If Jacob had raped Bella, he'd be dead. It isn't rocket science. I'm damn sure his time is limited either way and that is the issue. I'm not sure what the hell I am supposed to do with that, but I sure as hell can't just lay here and do nothing.

"Bella is traumatized and struggling, Charlie. I won't lie to you, aside from her physical injuries Jacob's attack on her was sexual in nature and she's exhibiting many of the symptoms common to assault victims, but she is strong. Stronger than anyone I've ever met really." His tone is full of respect and admiration. "I suspect she is very like her Father."

Ignoring the flattery, I once again watch his face carefully. "She knows what you are, what you all are." It isn't a question. I only want to see his face when he answers, see if there is anything different than what I'd seen in Edward's face.

"Yes, she's known for a very long time."

I close my eyes worn out. "What the hell...I mean...what do you, what does _he_ want with her?"

"My son loves her, Charlie, and she loves him. He wants only her happiness and her wellbeing."

A few days ago I wouldn't have believed that, too full of bad memories to even consider it possible. But now? It's hard to not believe it.

"There are things you should know about my family, Charlie. Things that are very important."

"I don't want to know," I grunt. "I know what you are, isn't that enough?"

"No, it isn't. My family is...different. We live a very different way than others like us."

_Others like us. Christ_. The room seems to tilt when I open my eyes. He waits until I look at him again. He smiles gently and I can see the effortless way he does it. I wonder how old he is, how long he's practiced blending in.

"We exist outside of the traditional sense. Long ago we adopted an alternative lifestyle that allows us to survive without harming humans." I can't help but flinch but he ignores my reaction, continuing in a quiet calm way like he's explaining something normal and not something monstrous. "We survive off the blood of animals. We hunt quietly and carefully and we do what we can to blend in, to try to live some semblance of a normal life." Rising from the chair he moves quietly to the window and I can see that the veil of secrecy has lifted enough that he no longer feels the need to keep his movements completely normal. He has the same fluid grace that Edward has.

"None of us chose this existence, Charlie. Once upon a time we were all human, like you, like Bella." Something about his tone when he speaks my daughter's name makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, and a chill rake my spine. "At one time or another we all had lives, families." Sadness touches his words and he grows quiet for a minute. I swallow past the lump in my own throat that comes with the picture he's painting. He turns back from the window and moves to my side, carefully this time, once again looking like any normal man. Any normal man who never went out in the sun and was uncommonly beautiful.

"We are not murderers, Charlie. Nor are we heartless monsters. Everything else you need to know beyond that is secondary and unimportant, and honestly the less you know the better."

"Exactly what Edward said," I mumble while my eyes burn and my body aches with overwhelming tiredness.

He nods. "We've given you a lot to digest and you need to rest."

"Yeah, that might be an understatement." Shifting my body, trying to find some way to lie that doesn't hurt, I manage to push myself up. Carlisle moves to adjust the bed, helping me settle back against the pillows. His ice cold touch should make my skin crawl but maybe I'm just too tired. My mind flips back through all the times I've seen Edward touch Bella. His hand on the small of her back, guiding her in and out of the door. His hand on hers, or his arm around her waist. Bella pressed close to his body while he kissed her goodnight. The tremor does happen then and Carlisle pulls away, probably mistaking my reaction as being related to his close proximity.

"Tell me about Jacob, Carlisle." I've spoken the request quietly, but I purposely put a steel edge to my tone. I don't think I could digest any more information about the Cullen family even if he was offering it, but I need to know more about Jacob Black before I can make a decision about exactly what I need to do. He pauses in the act of signing one of the sheets on the clipboard, and taps the pen lightly against the metal top. The action is very human, and I realize that some of the mannerisms he's adopted have become second nature to him.

He cocks his head slightly to the right and I get the impression that he's listening to something. Another chill skates down my back. There is nothing human about his action this time. I swear I hear a low inhuman growl as the clipboard blurs to the table and he's at the door before I can blink. Spasms of pain snap through my chest, but I manage to twist enough to see Billy Black glide just past the threshold of the door. Carlisle doesn't let him pass, and this time the chill makes all the hairs on my body stand on end.

"Billy?" Snatches of crazy dreams confuse me for a second. I can't remember if he's been here before now, but a part of me thinks some of those so called dreams might be more than that. Then it hits me like a two ton Mac truck. Billy's son attacked my daughter; Billy's son shot me and damn near ended my life. My best friend is the Father to a something that just might make the Cullen's seem like the tame kids on the block.

_The Quileute people are descended from wolves, Charlie. You really wanna mess with me?_ A jibe. A teasing anecdote from one male friend to another. A shit kicking contest, nothing more, right? _Right?_ Jesus. What the hell kind of nightmare am I in?

Billy doesn't turn or look at me. His eyes stay locked with Carlisle's. "Charlie," he says quietly, his tone oddly the same as any other greeting he's ever given me. "You're welcome to stay Carlisle, but Charlie and I need to have a conversation and unless you plan on doing something, I'd appreciate it if you let me by."

"I told Sam that I won't tolerate anymore interference with my family. Perhaps he forgot to convey the message?" Carlisle words are said so quietly I almost can't hear them. The last remaining veil falls down. He's pissed, and like Edward I don't know how I ever missed what is so damn obvious. He's dangerous.

"I'm not interfering with your family. I'm here to talk to my friend." The emphasis he puts on 'my' is hard.

My legs are uncooperative and I try to use my hand to shove them off the bed. Carlisle seems like he's barely restraining himself. There is something going on here and maybe my playing ostrich and burying my head in the sand isn't going to work. "Hey. Hey now, hold up."

Carlisle straightens just the tiniest bit, and only then do I realize he was almost crouching in a defensive posture. "Charlie, be still." His voice is hard and it freezes me in my place with its unexpectedness. I've never heard him speak this way, ever.

"Like hell I will." I growl in response when the momentary stun wears off. He's at my side in an instant, too damn fast and it freaks me out, again.

"Lay back," he says and this time there is a resolved sigh that follows his words. He searches my face for a moment and then seems to come to a decision. "Perhaps Billy is the best one to explain his son." He seems like he's talking to himself more than to me. He reaches for my IV and adjusts the brace holding it to my hand. When he looks at me again he ignores Billy completely. "Bella has become like a daughter to me as well, Charlie. A beloved daughter. I hope you will forgive my anger. Seeing her harmed has eaten away at my control and as her true Father you must understand that. And as her Father you should also know that my family will protect her to the death, as we shall protect you also."

His words should sound hokey, like overly done dramatics, but they don't. Instead they sound like fact, stated and true. "You think you need to protect me from Billy?" I can't keep the incredulity out of my tone. No matter what Jake did, it shouldn't have any bearing on Billy. Unless…

Billy has wheeled his chair closer, and I turn to look at him instead of Carlisle. Almost as though I expect him to give me the answer. When he speaks his voice is thick with remorse.

"He does, but he's got good reason, Charlie." He glances at Carlisle one time and then closes his eyes and settles deeper into his chair. I recognize the posture; I've seen it a hundred times. Billy settling into story telling mode, only this time instead of rolling my eyes and humouring my best friend, I listen for real. I listen for a very long time and I don't miss a word, not one. Through it all Carlisle stands by my side, so still he might as well be a cold white statue. He moves once to head a nurse off at the pass, and then resumes his vigil again while Billy continues. By the time he's done nothing is the same in my life. I can see now that what I'd thought was my guilt is nothing but a joke. My mistake wasn't in trying to hook Bella up with Jacob Black. My mistake was living in Forks and bringing my one true reason to breathe to live here with me. Because now she's right smack dab in the middle of a tug of war between two creatures that shouldn't exist, and I don't have a God damn clue how the hell I'm going to save her. Or if I'm even supposed to.

If she's made her choice, can I live with it?


	22. Chapter 22

A/N. I'm rushing a bit to get this chapter out so please forgive any errors. This is for everyone who reviewed and asked or hoped to see a little tenderness between Edward and Bella. Again, I'm trying to stay realistic and to give Bella's character the embodiment of a real victim of a violent crime, so it can't yet be perfect between them. She is struggling to deal with the aftermath and to heal both physically and emotionally, and Edward is wrestling with his own demons as well.

* * *

Chapter 22 Invisible Wounds

**One Week After the Attack**

**Edward's POV**

Bella stirs and I automatically shift my body to accommodate hers. The blankets slip down her shoulder revealing her creamy skin and a patchwork of bruises just above her elbow that are slowly beginning to turn yellow around the edges. I've seen them repeatedly over the days that have followed the attack, but my jaw still clenches in reaction. She shifts again and a small whimper passes her lips. My jaw clenches harder.

She sleeps only lightly these days, the aches and pains from her injuries never really allowing her to sink into any kind of deep slumber. She won't sleep at all if I'm not by her side. The only exception to that rule is the light fitful doze that Jasper can coerce her into with his gift, and even that is hit or miss. She still seems unaware of her ability to block him and we have not yet figured out why it happens at certain times and not others. Carlisle feels it is a protective instinct that she adopts whenever she feels the most vulnerable, and Jasper agrees. He describes her mood just before as a feeling of agitation and frustration, though outwardly her composure makes it difficult to read.

She shifts again and coughs lightly, her brow furrowing in a wince of discomfort at the action. She started refusing morphine on the fourth day and rarely accepts medication of any kind to ease her pain. It will take several more weeks for the fractures in her ribs and wrist to heal, and though the bruises are beginning to fade she still holds her body with extreme care.

Coughing again she opens her eyes slowly. She has been asleep for less than an hour. I trail my fingers down the side of her face and she smiles slightly. Despite everything she has been through her concern remains for everyone else but herself. She proves it again by frowning just as quickly as she had smiled.

"Why are you here? You're supposed to be hunting with Emmett and Rose."

"I told you, love. I'm fine. I hunted yesterday."

"Squirrels and chipmunks don't count, Edward," she scoffs teasingly. I've been sticking very close to home and while the pickings are slim and less than appealing, I haven't yet had to resort to feeding from rodents.

I roll my eyes playfully, and hers turn serious. Softly she trails the fingers of her uninjured hand under the dark circles beneath my even darker eyes. "You look thirsty. Why didn't you go, Edward?"

She has been so unwell over this last week she still doesn't quite understand all that has happened. I wouldn't leave her now even if I hadn't fed in months. The wolves have been quiet, and there has been no sign of Jacob Black, but there still remains an undercurrent of tension surrounding all of us.

"Never mind," she sighs. "I already know the answer." Her eyes turn sad again before she presses her forehead against my chest. Stroking her hair gently, I wish with everything in me that I could ease that sadness somehow and lift the burden from her heart. I'm still struggling with this new Bella. She won't discuss what happened, and her eyes are constantly wary. Each time she wakes she instantly looks for me, and though I've rarely not been there by her side she always seems somehow surprised that I am. Her soft smile, which had always held warmth and love, now holds a new emotion as well. Fear. She looks at me like she doesn't understand why I'm still here.

"Can you hold me, Edward?" she whispers, and this too is new. The old Bella never hesitated to press herself close to me, even when it was dangerous or unwise. Now she won't move closer unless she asks, and each time she does I feel like she's expecting me to refuse her. Sliding my arms around her gently I move her closer, molding her body to mine.

These quiet moments between her and I have become the bitter sweet reason I have to resist the urge to hunt for Jacob myself. In between her fitful efforts at sleep there is a new undefined edge to the way we touch, and I crave it a thousand times more than blood or revenge. Her scent and her warmth ground me, and for a little while the dank, icy cold ball of rage that exists in my core melts and turns to liquid. She fills me with light and heat and it is the sweetest feeling I have ever known, even if it is tinged with the bitter taste of my guilt and her pain.

She tips her head back slightly, yet another new Bella action. The old Bella would have pressed her lips to mine, demanding to be kissed, but now she holds herself tightly in check, silently asking and waiting for me to make the first move. I have no desire to deny her now or ever, and it hurts that she thinks I might.

"I love you," I whisper against her soft warm lips a second before I claim them gently. Before the attack our kisses had escalated to new heights as we explored our boundaries, but each inch of ground we'd gained had been tempered by my constant fear that I could hurt her. I am still afraid, but the tables have turned now. Then it had been her pushing and me always erring on the side of caution. Now we've switched places.

Bella's lips move against mine hesitantly at first and it takes patience and tender coaxing before she really begins to respond to my kisses. I cradle her body as gently as if she were made of glass and sip the soft sighs that finally begin to slide from her throat. She trembles slightly as I move my lips to her jaw and around to the tiny shell of her ear, allowing her a chance to catch her breath while I drink in the smell of her hair and skin. She moans softly as I let my tongue touch the soft skin beneath her ear and my hand to move down over her bottom, pulling her even closer until our bodies are completely flush. The contact sends flames of heat and need to burn the bonds of restraint, and a new shiver tells me she feels the same despite my cold skin. Our mouths meet again and finally I feel what I've been waiting for. The moment that makes these moments sweet beyond all sane reason. The tension she never seems to let go of any other time slides away and she melts against me. Warm and pliant and relaxed.

I slow the kisses, letting my tongue touch hers as our lips ghost over one another in a slow sensual rhythm. I can taste her in every moist exhalation of her breath and feel her heartbeat move her breasts where they press tightly against me. The soft curves of her bottom fill my hand, and the skin on the backs of her thighs is petal soft as I skim them with my fingertips.

Fevered and ill, the touch of anything more than the thin cotton panties and t-shirts she's been wearing have felt restrictive and abrasive to her. And even though the fever is gone now she still can't stand the restrictions or the weight of any fabric on her bruised, battered body. Not even her favourite ratty sweats hold any appeal, and so I've become intimately familiar with parts of her body I'd never seen, let alone touched. Now, as I let my hands trail back up and under the thin material of her shirt, skimming with infinite care across her back, her reaction only adds to the sweetness making me guiltily grateful for her aversions. She shivers as my cool touch soothes and caresses her bruised skin, and I can feel her nipples tighten from the cold and from the pleasure.

I slow the kisses even more, and drink the last of her sighs before moving to kiss her forehead and then tucking her head beneath my chin. Her breathing evens out and she drifts back to sleep slowly, and for awhile she will rest comfortably. It won't last long, an hour maybe two before I will feel the tension slipping back inside of her body. Perhaps it's dreams that bring it back to her, I don't know. She hasn't slept long enough or peacefully enough to fall into sleep talking so I cannot say for sure what she dreams about. I only know that I can give her and I both a small respite from our pain, and that is enough for this moment. I hold her gently and wait for it to start again, wishing I knew how to bring her back to me.

**Two Weeks After the Attack**

**Bella's Pov**

"Dad, I'm fine, really." Shifting the phone to my other ear it takes every ounce of patience I have to keep my voice calm. "I'm just tired. You need to stop worrying about me." Everyone needs to stop worrying about me. I catch Edward out of the corner of my eye and turn to him. He offers me a smile and it helps. It always helps.

"How's Aunt Julie?" Charlie snorts in reply, and I somehow manage to force out a laugh that sounds slightly realistic. Charlie is still in the hospital and he isn't happy about it. He's even less happy that his sister has felt the need to fly in from Idaho in what he calls - 'a misguided attempt at sibling bonding'. He's never been that close with her, but I personally think it's sweet that she's left her own life and family to come and care for her little brother. I've only ever met her twice and it was so long ago I can't really remember it well. She's only been here for a few days but already she's driving Charlie crazy. The fact that she's announced to everyone who will listen that she's not leaving until she has him back on his feet isn't helping that feeling.

"Is that Bella? Is she feeling better, poor thing. Tell her I said hello, Chuck."

"Jules, for the hundredth time stop calling me that."

"Don't be a baby; I've always called you Chuck, no different than you calling me Jules."

"If I stop, will you?"

"Don't be silly. I love it when you call me Jules. Here give me the phone, let me talk to Bella."

I can feel the sudden vice grips of panic grabbing my chest. I'm not dealing well with normal conversations as of late, and I'm certainly not up for my Aunt Julie's overly enthusiastic personality. Not to mention the lies I need to try to keep straight. She thinks I'm sick, which is true and easy enough, but there is some long convoluted tale about Edward and I and a boat that I can't keep straight no matter how many times Edward and Carlisle have gone over it for me. I just can't seem to concentrate on anything long enough to commit it to memory.

"Dad, don't put her on the phone. I can't deal..." Edward is instantly by my side, his perfect features creased into a frown of concern.

"Not now, Jules. She's tired."

"I only want to say hi, she can't be too tired for that. Jeepers, she's been sleeping for days."

She's become more and more determined to see me, or at least talk to me as the days have passed and Carlisle, Edward and Charlie have been keeping her off track by telling her I'm spending most of my time sleeping. She thinks I still have pneumonia, and though I've recovered almost entirely from that infection I'm still covered in fading bruises, not to mention my broken ribs and wrist that I have no explanation for.

"Dad, I have to go." Shoving the phone at Edward, I just as quickly yank it back, my hands trembling slightly. "I love you," I whisper quickly. I tell him every time I speak to him and for some reason the fact that I'd almost forgotten makes the tight panicky feeling in my chest worse. This time when I shove the phone at Edward I almost drop it because my hands are slick with sweat.

Edward speaks quietly with Charlie for a moment, but I don't listen. Instead I move across the room and crawl into his big bed and lay down. Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow and breathe, swallow and breathe, focusing with ridiculous concentration on the repetitive actions in an effort to calm myself. I keep my expression clear, locked down and neutral not wanting to alarm Edward. I know it is a wasted effort when Alice and Jasper enter the room. My heart beat and my crazy emotions are giving me away.

Alice slides onto the bed beside me and instantly wraps her cool stone body against my back. "It's okay, Bella. Just breathe, honey. We're here, you're safe." Her melodic voice is soft and some of the tension eases. I wait for the rest of it to disappear under Jasper's influence but nothing happens and I open my eyes to see if he's still in the room. He is. Standing a few feet away, his eyes meet mine and still nothing happens. The tightness returns, and now I'm starting to shake.

This isn't my first panic attack, but every time it happens it feels like the first time. Carlisle has told me that they will get better and I believe him, right up until it starts again. Now it just feels like I'm in hell. Only Alice's strong cold arms are keeping me from being sucked under. I swallow and breathe and repeat, but I can't make it stop this time and Jasper isn't able to help me either. They've explained why. I know it's whatever weird glitch in my brain that keeps Edward from reading my mind, only now it's keeping Jasper from using his gift to calm me. It makes no difference that I know. I don't know how to turn it off and on. My last panic attack happened early this morning, and Jasper had been able to help me easily. I don't feel any different now than I did then.

Jasper's expression shows his helpless frustration.

"I'm ss... sor... sorry, Jasper," I mumble through the shaking that makes my ribs burn and ache, and he looks suddenly and infinitely sad.

"Shh, Bella. Just breathe and try to relax. Remember you're safe."

Nodding, I close my eyes again and try to focus on Edward's voice as he finishes speaking to Charlie.

"Everything is fine, Charlie. I would tell you if it were not. We've been through this. I will not keep anything of importance from you. Now I need to go, Bella needs me." His tone is curt and abrupt and it doesn't help the feeling of panic at all. It just reminds me of more reasons to panic, like the fact that my Father knows almost everything, and pretty soon I won't be able to avoid him and the questions I know he's going to ask.

_Oh. Get a grip, Bella. Damn it. I am so tired of this. Why do I keep falling apart?_ Swallow and breathe, swallow and breathe. "Edward." I don't want to do that, say his name like that. All needy and pleading, but I can't seem to help myself. I don't know how to be strong anymore and I hate myself for it. I've barely spoken but he's already here, lifting me so carefully away from Alice, carrying me out of the room, out of the house, so fast everything around me blurs. Then we are in the yard and the air is less thick, easier to breathe. It feels clean and tastes fresh and a little bit of the tightness eases, taking some of the panic away.

Edward sinks down to the ground, leaning his back against a tree trunk. The leaves over my head rustle softly in the light breeze as he settles me in his lap, cradled gently against his stone like form. He begins to talk, and even though I can't concentrate on anything he's saying the velvet softness of his voice eases more of the sensations that have me so tightly in their grip. Finally it fades enough that I can catch some of what he's saying. Something about Paris at night and the things he'd like to show me.

"I can't speak French very well, Edward." My voice is still tremulous and the tightness has moved from my chest into my throat, but he chuckles softly. There is an edge of relief to his laugh as he feels me come back to him. I tip my head back slightly and allow his gorgeous perfect face to take away the last of the fear. I'm safe, and though I wasn't in any danger to begin with the feeling is so sweet I feel tears gather in my eyes.

"Welcome back," he whispers softly, his eyes dark and sad as his fingers trace my face. The tightness is gone but it's left a void of emptiness in its wake.

"I'm sorry." There isn't any need for either of us to whisper, but my apology is as soft spoken as his words were. My fingers move to touch his face just as gently as he touches mine, and he shakes his head.

"Bella, I've told you, love. Never apologize to me for this."

"I feel so stupid, so weak and useless." My voice catches on a sob and he growls. The sound makes me smile, even though I know he's frustrated with me.

"Ah, love," he sighs. "Please listen to me. You've been through so much and your mind is trying to deal with all of it, and to heal. You have to be patient with yourself, and give it some time."

"I have been patient. Carlisle said it would get better, but it isn't."

"In time it will get better."

Sighing I bite my lip and look hard into his eyes, searching to see if he's lying. He looks back at me calmly and all I see is his faith and his love. I don't understand either of them. I don't _deserve_ either of them. Unable to bear it I lean my head against his chest so he can't see me. The breeze is cool and between that and his cold skin I shiver slightly. His arms tighten a tiny bit around me as though to shelter me and it makes me ache in a whole different way. I need him so much it's become like a living breathing thing inside of me.

"You're cold. Do you want to go back in now? I don't want you to catch a chill." The thought of going back inside the house brings back a small flicker of the tightness, and I shake my head.

"No, can we just stay out here for a little longer?"

"Of course, love," he answers quickly. His hands cradle the back of my head and he lifts my face so he can see me. "Alice? Can you bring us a blanket please?" His voice stays just as quiet as it had when he was speaking to me, but Alice arrives only a few seconds later with a soft, cream coloured throw. She kneels beside us and wraps me ridiculously tight.

"Are you feeling better, Bella?" Her golden eyes are anxious as she searches mine.

"Yes. Sorry, Alice. I..."

"Bella!" She rolls her eyes and rises fluidly to her feet. "Would you please stop doing that. It really is so absurd. I should be apologizing to you. I just can't seem to catch these panic attacks quickly enough to head them off at the pass." Scowling with frustration she stamps her tiny foot and the leaves rattle harder. With a small pout she flits away, leaving Edward chuckling and me feeling just a bit guiltier than I already was. She's trying to watch too much as usual and I know it takes a toll on her.

Edward places one finger beneath my chin and tips my face up to study it. "Bella," he murmurs, his features turning serious as he reads my expression. I head him off at the pass. I'm not up for a reprimand and it makes me brave.

"Can I have a kiss?" Fire dances over my cheeks and I wait like I always do now for a flicker of disgust or anger to show in his eyes. Instead, though I don't understand it, I see only warmth touched with a slight sadness. His eyes fall to my lips and I see the familiar tightening of his jaw that I've long since come to recognize as desire tempered with hesitant care. He's gauging his control and wishing he didn't have to. I should feel bad for that too and I do, but not enough to take my request back. That living breathing need is alive and strong and it outweighs everything else.

I squirm out of the blanket and wrap my arm around his waist bringing my body closer to his. My other arm still only has limited range, between the brace on my wrist and the constant need to never allow it to get far from my fractured ribs. So I settle for resting my hand on his chest, loving the solid cold feel of him. His lips brush over mine and I hear him inhale deeply, drinking in my scent. Tiny darts of heat spread out over my body in reaction, chasing away the cool breeze a thousand times better than the blanket. I want more. A small whimper conveys what I want and he deepens the kiss, trailing his icy tongue over my bottom lip seductively. He's so gentle, always so infinitely gentle and careful, and I can feel myself relaxing, melting into him. This is my safe place, but it isn't perfect.

Jacob's face invades it and I flinch involuntarily. Edward feels it and pulls back, his eyes searching mine looking for the cause. I won't let the dark memory take over, and I keep it from showing in my expression. I want to press my mouth back to his, I want and need him to make me feel the way only he can, but I don't move. If he were to push me away it would break the last piece of me still left whole. Instead of moving, I whisper that I love him and let him lead.

Suddenly we are lying on the sweet scented grass with the blanket protecting me from the damp ground. Edward lies beside me and cups my face in his big hands. The coolness radiating from his palms is a soothing balm that seems to numb my racing mind. He exhales against my mouth and the numbness spreads and then blossoms into warmth that settles deep in the cradle of my hips. Carefully he kisses me again and again, and then with a groan his hands move from my face to my back and then lower, pulling me closer until not even the breeze could fit between us.

He groans my name, and when it draws a small answering moan from my mouth he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside and steal my breath away.

"Breathe, Bella." His tone is a low sexy growl that nearly makes his demand impossible. I want him closer, but when I try to arch against him my body rebels with darts of pain. The small hiss of discomfort has him drawing away, and I can't keep the whimper of frustration hidden completely. Lightly he traces my features with the tip of his finger and I can see him warring with conflicting desires.

"Don't stop," I plead. The second the words escape my mouth I bite my lip while my insides draw in hard in fear. Again I wait for him to pull away and my heart thumps hard in my chest. He can't want me, not really. Not the way he used to, not after everything I've done and I know it, but I'm so selfish that I hang on anyway. Even if he only wants me a little it's enough. I'll take whatever bit he wants to throw my way and hang onto it for dear life. I'm beyond pathetic and I don't deserve him, but I'm too gutless to let him go.

Moving back to my side, he carefully turns me against him. His lips are so cold, hard and sweet when he resumes the kiss that I can't help but moan loudly. I'm wearing the softest sweat pants and shirt I own but the material feels like it's going to rub my skin raw. Lately the touch of any clothing feels restrictive and a sudden mental image of being naked makes me almost weak with wanting. Not just naked, but naked in Edward's arms, his cold hard marble smooth skin against mine soothing the endless ache of healing bruises. The clean feel of his mouth on mine and the clean soft scent of earth and leaves, grass and air mingling with the soft perfume of Esme's flower gardens. Touching me until I forget everything. Nothing between us, nothing..._oh._

Edward slides his hand down my back and over my hip. It trails over the washed out gray cotton and curls behind my knee. Slowly he draws it up and over his hip. His leg moves between mine and I can feel the cold solidity of his thigh nestled firmly against my suddenly aching hot center. A deep shudder goes through him and he goes still for a split second before once again latching onto my mouth. There is a new edge to this kiss, and before I can stop myself I instinctively rock against his leg. The sensation of hot pleasure is almost blinding and all I want is to do it again and again, but his hand tightens against my hip preventing any movement. Realizing what I just did I freeze as much as I can with tiny shockwaves making me tremble. I've never been this intimately pressed against him before and everything between my legs is alive and tingling in ways I never knew it could. It almost hurts.

His lips are still on mine though they're no longer moving. Both of us are panting even though I'm the only one who technically needs it, and his sweet breath fills my head making the urge to rock against him even harder to resist. His eyes open slowly and the darkness reminds me of how much he's suffering with his thirst to stay with me. _Selfish._ My inner demons scream. _How much more will you make him suffer for you?_ I wince at my own thoughts and he stiffens in my arms.

"It's all right, Bella, my Bella, sweetheart don't be afraid. I won't hurt you, my angel. I won't ever hurt you." He's misunderstood so completely that for a second I'm stunned. Licking my lips I swallow hard to find my voice. I want him so badly to kiss me again and to keep touching me it's hard to focus. I want and need so badly to just forget all the ugliness and to drown in his love and his caresses, but he's too careful like always. And now he thinks I'm afraid.

"No, I'm fine. I just..." A blush flares hotly over my skin and I can't hold his gaze. _Great Bella. Go ahead tell him what you want, see what it gets you. Could you be any more masochistic_? A fat cold rain drop lands against my hot cheek and it seems a wonder it doesn't sizzle. He brushes it away gently and sighs.

"It's starting to rain, love. Let's get you inside." He lifts me, setting me gently back on my feet and guides me inside.

The emptiness inside of me yawns wide as we enter the house. I should be getting used to it by now. I wonder if I ever will.

The emptiness reminds me of Edward's thirst and I pause in the doorway and turn to him. "You need to hunt." I trace the half spheres of shadows beneath his eyes trying to inject some kind of forcefulness in my tone. "So does Alice. You two can't go on like this. If you go, she'll go."

"Bella, I'm fine, love. And so is Alice. But if it makes you feel better I will try to encourage her to go, alright?" He smiles gently, though I can still see the hesitance in his eyes. He's still thinking his actions out in the yard frightened me. Sliding my arms around his waist I press a kiss to the small v of his shirt collar. His skin smells and tastes impossibly good.

"You're worrying too much about me, Edward. I know I haven't been very strong lately, but I promise I'm going to try harder now. Charlie will be coming home soon. I'm glad that Aunt Julie is here to help, but I know that it would be better if she didn't stay too long." No one has said as much but with everything still so unresolved feeling, I get the impression that her presence is a bit unnerving to Carlisle and Edward. They still are not a hundred percent certain that Charlie's newfound knowledge isn't going to be a problem. Charlie has chosen to remain very quiet about it all and just seems to be focusing on his recovery. At least according to Edward. My bout of being sick has made it impossible to go to the hospital to see him so I have no way of knowing for sure. I speak to him every day on the phone instead, but he's so far refrained from saying more than a few veiled comments that I've chosen to play dumb with.

"Bella, I've told you. It isn't really a problem. I do get the impression however, that your Father would prefer she leave sooner rather than later." He chuckles, holding me even more carefully than normal and obviously trying to protect me like always.

Sighing, I tilt my head up to his. There isn't any point in continuing this topic. He isn't going to tell me anything new and he's only going to make light of it if he can. "I'm tired, Edward. Will you come upstairs and lay with me for a little while?"

"Of course, love." He sweeps me gently off my feet and carries me to his room. It isn't the same as it was outside, but he does hold me and kiss me until I fall asleep and I am a tiny bit less empty than I was before.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

In Her Pain

Three weeks after the attack

**EPOV**

The house is quiet when I come in. I pause in the doorway searching for the thoughts of my family and my favourite sound in the world. Bella's heartbeat. Her scent permeates the house now and I inhale it, timing my breathing to each soft, anchoring pulse.

_She's with us, Edward, in our room_. Emmett's thoughts overpower everyone else, directed as they are towards me. I make my way up the stairs eagerly and slip quietly into Rose and Emmett's bedroom. I can tell by the sound of her heartbeat that she is asleep and I don't want to wake her. She is still sleeping so fitfully these days that whenever she does rest, I hate disturbing her.

I'm not surprised to find her in here. When I'd left to take a quick hunting trip and to check on Charlie, she'd been sleeping in my bed. Waking alone she would have gone searching for company. She rarely likes to be alone now and ever since the night of the attack she's bonded with Rose enough that she feels comfortable in her presence. Curled between Emmett and Rose on their bed she looks peaceful, and I lean against the doorframe, hesitant to move her.

Emmett grunts and reaches for the remote. "Finally. Can I turn this junk off now?" The large plasma screen TV on his wall is playing one of the latest chick flicks, and he's reached his limit with the sappy romance. Rose isn't paying attention to the movie, too intent on her fashion magazine, and Bella is obviously very soundly asleep. Why he hasn't turned it off before now escapes me and I arch a brow at him playfully.

"Shut it, Edward. I just didn't want to wake her up."

Rose snorts and then looks up at me. Her thoughts are clouded like always. Lately she either hurls profane insults at my head or blocks me. She chooses the first option now.

_She's been asleep for an hour and she's fine. You're an idiot. Go back out and hunt something decent._

"I'm not going back out, Rose so knock it off. I found more than enough prey."

"Herbivores," she hisses quietly, her voice tinged with disgust. She tosses her magazine aside and stands.

"You know she doesn't sleep well if I'm not here, Rose." It takes effort to stay patient, but fighting with Rose is a waste of time.

"She doesn't sleep well when you are here, Edward. The only difference is instead of waking up and talking to you, she comes and finds one of us and we baby-sit her. And as you can see, she eventually falls back asleep _and...she's...fine_. You and Alice," she snorts again, her voice full of disdain. "You think you're the only two who can look after her, but you're both ridiculous. All you do is coddle her and make her feel more like a victim."

Emmett clears his throat pointedly. "Babe."

"Its fine, Emmett," I snarl. "Go ahead, Rose. You've been playing this game for weeks, hinting and hurling insults. Come with me to the garage and you can say what's on your mind." Bella, sensitive as always to stress, shifts uneasily in her sleep though we are speaking so quietly she can't hear us.

"Are you going to listen? Or should I save my breath."

"I guess that depends on what you have to say."

"You asked me how to help her, Edward, or have you forgotten?"

"Yes, I did ask. And if I remember correctly you shot me down, told me I wasn't ready to her your words of wisdom, isn't that correct?"

She ignores my barbed question, her eyes flashing hotly. "It really isn't anything to me if you don't listen. But I've been watching you all this time and you really are a clueless, gutless wonder. I wouldn't even bring it up again except you seem to have forgotten that I would know better than anyone in this house what Bella needs right now." Her voice is a disdainful sneer and combined with her hurled insults it provokes my anger.

"So what? You want me to beg you to help? I don't think so, Rose. I know Bella, and I know what she needs."

Rolling her eyes, she points her finger at me angrily. "Fine. Do what you want. Like I said it doesn't mean anything to me, but I will say this much and you can damn well listen. If you'd spend even half as much time searching for that _Dog_ as you do deluding yourself about how she is handling all this, he'd be in a grave where he belongs. And don't you dare say that it's none of my business. It's my husband you send out every day to look for that fucking mongrel."

"Deluding myself? What the hell does that even mean?" I snarl, the ever tenuous line of my patience snapping momentarily. Bella stirs again and I force myself to stay calm. Rose's eyes flicker to Bella and I can see her do the same. For someone who claims not to care, she's surprisingly willing to curb her temper.

"It means, Mr. 'I think I'm perfect', that she's telling you what you want to hear, and you're so eager to hear it you're not even looking to see if she's handing you a load of bullshit. Has she even once talked about what's happened? Does she ever ask about him? When she went to the house and cleaned her Father's blood off the floor so he could come home, did you think it was normal that she never even so much as flinched?" She stops talking and settles for showing me images of Bella from her point of view. Not that I need them. Letting Bella return to the scene of the crime had gone against every protective instinct I'd had, and only Carlisle's persuasion in the end had convinced me to relent. He'd spoken of closure and allowing Bella to make her own decisions, and I'd caved like a house of cards, a weakness I still regretted. If I'd had my way she would have never set foot in that house again. I would have burned it to the ground, but Charlie was stubborn and determined that nothing would keep him out of his own home. And of course Bella, no matter how painful it was, would not be swayed from her stubborn determination that he not return to a messy reminder of his culpabilities. Nor would she allow me to have the matter taken care of.

Rosalie's mind shoves more images at me that all match my own. Bella, quiet and pale and completely shut down as she swept up glass and picked up the room that haunted her nightmares. If she'd gotten anything even remotely resembling closure out of the activity it certainly didn't show. Instead it seemed to add a new vividness to her pain, replacing her hazy images with ones of clarity.

"She isn't getting better, Edward. She's just shutting down and you're making it worse."

I can't contain my growl of frustration. Bella's panic attacks have been getting better this last week, and she's been sleeping better as well. That in my book is improvement. So, okay. She's been a little detached emotionally and she hasn't asked me to kiss her or hold her in days, though she looks at me like she wants to sometimes. And no, she hasn't talked about what happened, but that's normal. She's trying to put it behind her and I'm sure as hell not going to force her to relive it. I say as much and Rose looks like she'd like to rip my head off. Well the feeling is mutual.

"She isn't putting it behind her. It's sitting in her gut festering like a wound." Throwing her hands up in the air she turns away. "You know what, forget it. You're still not ready to hear this and I'm just wasting my time. Emmett, come help me with the car, I want to rotate the tires." She blurs by me, the wind that stirs up at her movements snapping against me like a slap. Emmett shrugs his shoulders uncomfortably.

"Sorry, man. You know how she gets." He shrugs again and glances at Bella. "And she does care by the way. We all do."

I'm hanging on to my patience by a thread, but I manage a weak nod. "Yes. I know." And it is true. I do know. Rose can only hide so much, and her anger and impatience with me are just one more manifestation of her sadness and frustration.

"Look, Edward. Maybe she's right that you just aren't ready to hear all of that, but..." Stuffing his hands in his pockets he looks slightly uncomfortable as he always does whenever a topic of conversation can't be lightened with a joke or a wisecrack. "I think you need to. Hear it I mean. Rose doesn't always say things right, man. We both know, that but I gotta tell you, I'm a little surprised that you haven't talked to me about any of this."

I look at him, taken aback. He's still looking at Bella, but his thoughts are clear and serious.

"I know I can be an ass and I act like I don't take things seriously, but I'm in love with a woman who went through some really dark stuff. I might just know something about what Bella needs from you right now. You know, if you want to ask, you can." _When you're ready_, he amends silently. Bella stirs again and I can tell by her breathing that she is about to wake up. Emmett leaves the room quietly and I stuff this crap down with all the rest and go to her. She's getting better I know it. No matter what the hell everyone else thinks. She just needs time. Just a little more time.

**Bella's Pov**

Four Weeks After the Attack

"He's on the Reservation. He has to be. I've covered every mile in every possible direction, but there is nothing. Not even a whiff of the mutt. Even after this much time I'm certain I could pick up his trail if he'd left."

I stop in the doorway and shiver. The red glowing numbers on Edward's clock read just after 3 a.m. I'd woken up and been unable to go back to sleep. Thinking a glass of warm milk might help and hating being alone, I'd gotten up. Now I'm wishing I hadn't. Emmett's voice is very low, so low I only barely heard him. Edward's low growl of anger is just as low and it sends goose-bumps over my skin. I'd known deep down of course that he was still looking for Jacob. It didn't make sense that he wouldn't be, but I've been deluding myself into thinking that since he rarely ever leaves me that there was nothing really serious about the searching. Just him, keeping his eyes open and being observant. I know all about Jacob's disappearance of course, I just tried not to think about it. Ever. Stupid really, I know Edward better than that, and I've seen more than a glimpse of the anger he isn't letting go of in his eyes. Every time he sees me in pain or has to be reminded of what happened. I've been doing everything I can to hide my own emotions. I've even gotten very good at hiding the panic attacks that still hit me like freight trains a few times every day. Carlisle is the only one who knows I'm still having them, and I've sworn him to secrecy, not that I needed to. I'm not officially his patient, but that doesn't change his ethics and I'm incredibly grateful for his professional discretions.

"I know you're right, Emmett. I just wish you weren't. It makes things even harder. If I cross the border it's going to mean instant retaliation."

"Does it matter? I say it's time, Edward. We've waited long enough."

"Yes, it matters," Edward's voice is a hiss, filled with so much anger and violence I wouldn't have been able to recognize it if I didn't already know it was him. If he wasn't so angry he probably would have noticed by now that I was awake. He can tell everything just by my heartbeat, and right now it is way too fast. I try to breathe evenly and press my hand against my chest as though the pressure will somehow slow it down.

"I can't provoke the Pack, not with Bella still so fragile. I need to get her safely away from here first, and then I can deal with him. I've been patient for this long; I can do it for longer if I have to. You need to just keep doing what you're doing. Eventually someone is going to come out of that Reservation reeking of that fucking dog, and when they do, we'll have the proof we need. Stick close to the borders for now and wait. Take Jasper with you. I want to know who leaves and who goes in, all the time, every time."

I've never heard Edward swear like that, ever. But it isn't the vulgar cuss word that makes me take a quick step back away from the door; it's the pure and bitter vile I can almost feel dripping off every word. He's not just looking for Jacob to keep tabs on him. He's looking for him because he plans to go after him. He's going to break the treaty. He's going to send me away, and then he's going to go head to head with Jacob in some macho asinine attempt at revenge and destroy decades of peace.

My heart takes off like a helicopter's rotor blades and the force of a full on panic attack crushes the air right out of my lungs. I search my mind trying to decide what I want because I can't deny that knowing Jacob is out there somewhere has been clawing at my peace of mind. And I can't deny that a small dark part of me loves the fact that Edward wants to avenge me, no matter the consequences.

I keep seeing that night in bits and pieces playing like a horror movie you don't want to watch but can't take your eyes off in my mind. The memories are erratic, some clearer than others and some so twisted up like close up watercolour paintings that I can't catch the details. They haunt my mind and my dreams no matter how hard I try to shove them down. I keep trying to make sense of it, to put it in perspective, but nothing I do works. Jacob was my best friend and I had loved him. I'd trusted him and he'd destroyed that beyond repair. I've tried to be objective, to look at the situation as a whole and to take into account the drugs and the alcohol, Leah and Sam and the Elders. Even Charlie and his decisions and plans. None of that changes the one thing I can't let go of. Jacob should have been my protector, he should have loved me enough to keep all of this from happening, but he didn't.

Post traumatic stress disorder. Carlisle uses that phrase a lot in our quiet private conversations where he tries to encourage me to talk about what's happened. He's even offered to find a good Psychologist, but since I can't divulge some seriously pertinent facts, like that my near rapist and the man who shot my Father was a werewolf, I've rejected the idea. I think he was a bit relieved.

The vice around my chest gets tighter and my heart won't slow down. No matter how angry Edward might be right now it is only going to take another second before he hears me. My only recourse now is evasion so I head for the bathroom. I forget for a minute how fast he can move and when he's suddenly there in front of me, I can't quite hide my shocked cry. He looks instantly remorseful and his hands close around my arms. His touch is gentle but for a second it isn't his hands I feel, it's Jacobs, and I can almost feel the blood draining from my face. It doesn't help at all that I can still see the residual bit of his anger clinging to his expression. He seems to make an effort to force it down while his hands stroke the skin of my bare shoulders gently.

"I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay?" I can tell he's listening to my heart.

"Yes, I just... you scared me. I didn't know you were home." Not exactly a lie. Up until a few minutes ago I hadn't known.

"Your heart was racing even before I startled you. Did you have a bad dream?" Humming something noncommittal I allow him to pull me closer and bury my face in his shirt. He smells like cold, fresh, night air and that indefinable perfume that I can't ever seem to get enough of.

"I'm sorry, my little love. I shouldn't have left you for so long." His voice is all velvet warmth, but a slight shiver skates up my spine and he tightens his arms around me. His fingers move beneath my chin and he tilts my face up to his with his new more intense expression. He's been studying me a lot lately and it is making it harder to hide my feelings. I have a feeling that I won't be able to fool him for much longer and the thought terrifies me. I can't stand that I've put him through so much, but no matter how hard I try to control my face he seems to always see too much. "Let's get you back to bed. Do you need a human moment first?"

I don't, not in the way that he means anyway, but I nod and he turns the light on for me. I would much rather stay in his arms but a second to get my act together is really necessary. I need to get control of my emotions before he realizes I've heard his conversation. No matter how I feel about what Jacob did, I can't let it turn into a war. I can't lose everything that really matters and no matter how confident Edward might be, I know it is a real possibility that all the Cullen's could be dragged into some kind of all out war. Not to mention the most important fact, the one I can't ever lose sight of. I can't lose Edward. I won't let that happen. Not because of me. I have to find a way to stop it. The problem is I don't know how.

Needing to stall I hit flush on a toilet I didn't use and turn on the water in the sink. While it runs I stare at my reflection in the mirror until the steam begins to fog the glass. I try not to look at myself if I can help it lately. I don't look the same, at all. Gone is the comfortable, plain face I've grown used to and in its place is a too thin, too pale girl with eyes too large for such a small face. One that overflows with shadows. I reach up and wipe away some of the condensation and the dripping water rivulets leave tracks on my reflection that look like the tears I won't allow myself to cry. On the glass I trace the pale gray leftovers of a bruise on my jaw line and a flash memory stabs my mind.

_Jacob's hand on my face, squeezing and sending star-bursts of pain shattering over my bones. His breath, hot and ripe with wine, taking the air I so desperately need. The terrifying feeling of being completely powerless and vulnerable. Of knowing that no matter how hard I struggle or beg, in the end I have no control over anything that is happening._

"_Damn it, Bella. Stop fighting me. I know you want this, I know you do."_

My chest is so tight I feel like I'm suffocating. More water droplets run down the mirror, dripping now on the counter below it. Tiny splashes of scalding liquid bounce up from the sink basin against my arms, but I can hardly feel it.

"_I love you, Bella. You should have been mine."_

"_No, Jacob. Please, don't do this"._

_Ghost fingers claw against my breasts, brutally pinching and grasping, moving down my stomach and tearing at my pants. Phantom fingers I shouldn't be able to feel, but I can._

My memories flash to the moment that started it all while my stomach clenches hard enough to make me bend over.

"_It's not Edward's idea. It was mine. I asked him to do this for me."_

"_What?"_

"_It's the one thing I want. Before he changes me."_

Something inside my chest constricts and seems to snap, and I can't stop the small sob that escapes my mouth as a sudden darkness covers my eyes and swallows the reflection. Everything inside of me that I have tried so hard to bottle up is spilling over, and all I can see is _his_ face. The bottle explodes and mixed with the fear and sadness is anger so strong it strips my will power away and sucks me under.

_Stupid. God I was so stupid_. How many times did Edward warn me? Alice? But I wouldn't listen. So caught up in defending him that I never listened. Now they're paying the biggest price and all I can do is stand here wallowing in my own selfish pain. Charlie nearly died because of me, because of my stupid pride. And now I'm going to be the reason for a bloody war between vampires and werewolves. I'm going to lose everything. I'm going to lose Edward.

The entire room goes black as the tightness in my core becomes unbearable.

**Edward's Pov**

Sinking down on the bed I pinch the bridge of my nose, striving for control. Bella had been too pale and too quiet. I want to think she hadn't heard my conversation with Emmett, but I can't discount the fact that she very well could have. I was too angry to pay attention to her actions believing her to have been asleep.

I watch the washroom door, frowning at how long she's taking. The toilet flushed almost five minutes ago and the water hasn't yet stopped running. A few tendrils of humid steam creep out from the crack at the bottom of the door as I stand and cross the space to knock lightly. There is no warning. One moment my hand is poised mid knock and the next the images are filling my head with a violence reminiscent of a swarm of angry killer bees.

_Bella sobbing, pleading, her tiny fists pushing against Jacob as he slams his mouth against hers. I feel the force of her back hitting the wall and it literally curls my own unbendable spine_. _His body all over hers, overpowering and relentless. _

My hands fist in my hair as the images continue with unrelenting force. Not just images, but every terrifying emotion she'd felt.

_Panic. I can't breathe...Not me. Her. Bella can't breathe. The stench of moist wine and hot breath and the slick cloying feel of his saliva choking her. Flares of pain as they crash against the living room sofa. The same sofa I'd held her on a thousand times._

The scene flips and I can hear more thoughts, not just Bella's but Alice's and Carlisle's as they enter the room confused and... God. She's projecting onto all of us. Jasper is on his knees in the hallway. No. She's not projecting on all of us. Just me. But Jasper is being hit with the full force of her emotions as the terrifying memories suck her under. She is re-living it frame by frame and her every emotion is as frighteningly real as it was that night. A flashback so powerful it all might as well be happening all over again. Emmett growls my name trying to get me to move, to stop this, but I'm helpless under the onslaught. We all are. Everything she's feeling is being projected onto them with stunning force. Jasper is very good at what he does and without his usual control nothing is held back from any of us.

_Charlie's kitchen. Bella reaching for the wine bottle, trying to take it away from Jacob. The open front door, rain and wind blowing in while Jacob stares at Bella shaking in rage._

"_This wedding is not for show. It is not fake. And my honeymoon, not that it is any of your business, won't be fake either."_

"_What the hell did you just say? What the hell, Bella."_

_Back in the living room. Bella pleading and Jacob's hands scraping so harshly against her tender, fragile skin. Panic burning me, burning her as his hands tear at the snap of her pants, pulling at the delicate lace of her underwear. So much pain and through it all panic and terror. I can't stop him, she can't stop him. He's too strong._

"_Jacob, no, no, no, no, no, no...Please, God. Stop." Her begging is ignored. IGNORED!_

Alice is trying to shove me away from the door, but I am only vaguely aware of her.

"Edward, move. Let me get her. Let me help..." Her voice is a sob, her tiny features pinched as Jasper, unable to bear the brutal full force of what Bella is reliving and projecting with such violent force, unwittingly continues to slam it at all of us.

"My fault, my fault. Why didn't I just shut up? He never had to know. Oh God, what did I do? My fault." Alice is staring at me in horror and I realize I'm saying out loud the words that are spinning through Bella's mind. They all realize it.

_One last image of Jacob smashing the table, Bella falling. The pictures are blurry but the emotions are anything but. She sees him, moving towards her and her whole being slips into hopelessness and suffocating fear. She can't stop him, she can't reach him, he isn't there anymore and she knows what he's going to do... _

Jasper growls hard.

Suddenly everything is unnaturally still, like a vacuum in space. Nothing moves and the only sound is Bella's racing heart. Through her eyes I can see her reflection. Her thoughts are full of self loathing and recriminations. Her tiny hand curls around the stainless steel soap dish and the light glints off the edges as she raises it over her head and slams it down in a powerful arc against the mirror. The sound of smashing glass brings an end to her grip on my mind, and the emptiness is almost worse than seeing what she'd just shared.

Carlisle is the first to recover and he smashes open the bathroom door, finally breaking the iron hold of immobility in my own limbs. Bella is on her knees, surrounded by deadly sharp shards of the huge bathroom mirror that had once run the entire length of the long vanity counter. Her arms are wrapped around her middle and she's rocking back and forth, crying in complete silence.

Flying by Carlisle, I reach her first. The glass snaps and cracks beneath my feet and then beneath my knees as I kneel beside her and cup her beautiful face in my hands. Her eyes are deep pools of pain and burning sadness that threaten to drown all of us.

"My fault, Edward," she sobs. "My fault. I told him about us, about our honeymoon. I never should have done that but I was so...vain. So full of myself and my pride, and I didn't want him to mock us, to lessen what we had."

"What we _have_," I growl slicing the word have with every ounce of emotion I can inject. "_Have_."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Edward. Please..." Her head falls and she presses her cheek against my palm. "Please don't hate me." Her entire body is shaking under the force of her tears.

The fissures in my heart haven't healed and now they open wide. I have never known this kind of pain. Not even burning into immortality can match it. Somehow I manage to move, to get my arms around her and lift her away from the shards of mirror that might hurt her and carry her into the bedroom. Jasper has regained his feet and he stands in the doorway, his expression broken. Alice has her arms around his waist and everyone else has frozen in place.

Bella clings to me as I sit down on the edge of the bed. I wrap myself around her tightly and rock her back and forth as she falls completely and utterly apart. My family, _our_ family, slips away quietly and though I expect to hear a screaming I told you so coming from Rose's mind all I hear is her sadness. She is blaming herself because she had, after all, known that this was inevitable even if I chose not to listen. My eyes meet hers for a brief second in understanding, and then we are alone.

"I'm sorry." Her apology is quiet this time but just as filled with desperation. I rock her just a little harder.

"Listen to me, my love, my life. If you never hear another word I speak, hear this. You have nothing to apologize for. It...was...not...your...fault."

"Yes," she whispers. "It was, you don't know. You don't know what I did, what I said."

I can't control the pain in my voice and I don't try. She needs to know that I understand. That I know exactly why she thinks she's to blame. "Bella. Do you remember when I told you that whatever this shield is that you have over your mind, you can, and have, lifted it?" She nods and I continue. "You did it again tonight. Did you know that?" Her beautiful eyes widen in surprise as I continue, not really needing an answer I already have. "I saw everything, Bella. All of it and I know what you said to Jacob." His name won't slide easily from my throat and my vocal chords torture it into a sneer filled with my hate. "I could kill him; I want to kill him..." Her body stiffens and I force my eyes which had closed with my desire to focus back on her. I have to control my anger. I've been failing her every day for almost a month. Failing to see what she's been suffering with, failing to help her heal. Again and again I've failed her, so lost in my own pain and anger that I couldn't see what she's been hiding.

"Don't you see, love. It wouldn't have mattered what you'd said, or what you did. Jacob has been spiralling out of control for a very long time and there was nothing you could have done. Not when so many other things lined up behind him and enabled his behaviour. You were never at fault. It doesn't matter that you told him about our honeymoon plans; he was cracking long before you said a word. Look at that night, Bella. Remember it and you'll see I'm right."

I watch as her eyes turn distant and tortured with her memories, only this time I don't try to stop her. I've been a complete an utter fool thinking she could ever forget what happened. She can't forget, not something like this.

"Charlie asked him to come over. But he was planning on coming anyway, you know that. It's why you can't blame your Father for his part in this. From the moment he came, he had an agenda. He wanted to take you away from me; he's always wanted to take you away from me." Softly I trace her pale cheek, absorbing her warmth.

"He started drinking. No one forced him. His anger was apparent even before the alcohol could have an effect. I've seen it in Charlie's mind and now in yours."

"The drugs," she whispers and I can see what it costs her to try to find some sane reason for what he did.

"Bella, do you know that some criminals will take Rohypnol before they commit a crime? They do it so that when the deed is done they won't have any memory. Amnesia is the perfect alibi. Jacob might not have chosen to take the drugs, but it doesn't change anything. I have been in his head a hundred times and every time it was the same. He wanted what he could not have, and he didn't care who he hurt in his attempt to get it. Including you."

She's quiet for a long time digesting that, and I stay silent allowing her to think. I continue to rock her softly and she clings to me giving me hope that she'll find her way back.

"It wasn't your fault, Bella," I repeat, willing to say it a million times if she'll hear it and believe it just once. "Jacob made his choices, not you. You were a victim, nothing more."

"I should have listened to you. You tried to tell me a long time ago..."

Pressing a finger to her mouth, I shake my head. "No. Don't think like that. No one knew what would happen, and he was your friend. It isn't your fault he changed."

Her tiny body is exhausted and a real spark of concern crosses my mind over how much of a toll all of this has taken on her. Her bones are finally beginning to heal, but she's too thin and too exhausted and it has been compromising her recovery. Her human fragility is something I can never forget and I can see now how much she's been hiding in an effort to protect me.

Laying her down gently, I pull the covers up around her and slip beneath them myself. She needs my touch to sleep, even if it makes her cold. She curls against me and I begin to whisper in her ear.

"I love you, Bella. I have always loved you. I will always love you. Share your pain with me; let me help carry the burden because your pain is my pain, always." Gently I press kisses to her temple, her cheek, her soft sweet lips. "Tell me what happened that night, Bella. Let me in."

"I already showed you," she murmurs as I sip the pure, sweet flavour from the skin beneath her jaw. Resting my palm against her cheeks, I meet her gaze and let the tears that spill from her eyes bathe my fingers in heat.

"Yes. I've seen it, now let me hear it. Tell me, Bella."

"I'm afraid."

"So am I." She looks startled and a small rueful smile tugs at my mouth. "Let's be afraid together now." Biting her lip she shakes her head, but I tighten my fingers and hold her still. "Tell me, love. Let me share the pain, let me help you bear it."

Slowly and hesitantly she starts talking and though every word hurts and tears at the space where my soul once lived, I hold her and bear it. Whatever burden she bears, I will carry too. I hold her and listen, and then I hold her as she cries enough tears for both of us. I hold her until she finally sleeps and when she does I whisper over and over again that I love her. That I will never leave her. That for eternity I will be her servant, her slave, her lover, her husband, her friend. A thousand promises, a thousand times over until the sun begins to chase away the night.

When the first pale rays mingle with the shadows, I slide out of her arms and make my way to Rose and Emmett's room. She's waiting for me, like I'd known she would be. In a chair close to the window I sink down and place my head in my hands. She gives me time to gather the shredded remains of my emotions together. Finally I raise my head and meet her eyes.

"Tell me Rose. Tell me how to help her. Tell me how to heal her, please."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Lessons in Healing

**Edward's Pov**

Sun in Forks is a rarity. Despite its appearance, I leave the house and run through the forest until the thick growth strangles every last beam in shadow and mist. Here in the deepest parts the sunlight doesn't penetrate so I allow myself to slow and then finally stop. I haven't been this far from the house in over a month, and only the fact that I know I can get back in less than a few minutes keeps me from returning.

Instantly my senses take over, searching for prey I don't physically need. I hunted only yesterday, but if I'm even going to consider my sister's words of advice I'm going to need every ounce of strength that feeding will grant me.

My mind scrambles backwards, replaying the conversation with Rose only a few hours ago, even as my other senses entwine with the surrounding forest.

"_She needs more from you, Edward. A lot more."_

_I hadn't needed those words from her at that point. Bella's mind had shown me perfectly just how little I'd understood of her experience and how foolish I've been. I'd thought to give her time, but I had grossly misjudged the damage Jacob Black had wrought. My foolish pride and vanity as always get in my way. Time doesn't heal all wounds._

"_You've waited too long. If you'd changed her, made her yours completely in every way, none of this would have happened."_

_My pride had bristled and I'd been unable to keep the low threatening growl from tearing up my throat. "You can say that to me, after every opinion to the contrary that you've shoved in my head for the last two years? You who condemned me with your words and your thoughts every chance you encountered?"_

"_My opinion was my own and it hasn't changed, Edward. Bella throwing away her humanity makes me sick. But that doesn't change the facts, and we are talking about __**you**__, not me. The second you decided that you couldn't live without her, you should have completed this. You left her weak and human instead. And not just human, but a virgin. Jesus, Edward. She didn't even know she hadn't been raped! How innocent does she have to be to not know that?"_

_My snarl was even deeper the second time and I'd risen to my feet feeling that cold ball twist in my guts. Emmett had growled his own low warning from the other room and I'd taken a small step back, striving for patience. The room had felt claustrophobic and unfamiliar. Rose's decorating tastes are feminine and fussy, cluttered with expensive French Provincial furniture and yet still oddly stark in its variations of white on white themes. I wanted to leave, but my feet stayed rooted in the plush carpeting._

"_None of that is your business, Rosalie. I asked you for your help. Advice in getting Bella through this. If all you have for me are recriminations then this is a waste of time."_

_Her expression had softened a bit as she'd shaken her head. "I'm sorry, but my recriminations and my advice are linked, Edward. You can't have one without the other." She'd taken a seat at her dressing table as though to diffuse the hostility between us by appearing more submissive. I'd sat again as well, not because I had decided I wanted to hear what she had to say, but because the alternative was inconceivable. I could have left the room and gone back to doing things the way I had been, but it was glaringly obvious that my way was only harming Bella more and I'd seemed to have run out of options._

_I had pinched the bridge of my nose, drawing in a deep breath of the perfumed air around me. "Explain that, please."_

_Her answering sigh had spoken of her own frustration, though her voice had remained level and calm when she spoke. Not an easy feat for Rose at the best of times. "Make her yours, Edward. Stop treating her like a broken china doll. She's human yes, but not nearly as fragile as you would have yourself believe. If you treat her like she is broken, that is how she will feel. Show her that she has a reason to heal, show her that her experience with Jacob is nothing but a bad dream that will fade when she understands what real physical love is." She'd snorted angrily then, the disdain suddenly returning to her voice. "Be a man for once in your existence, Edward."_

_I'd stared at her in utter stunned incomprehension. She couldn't possibly be telling me to do what I think she was, could she? "Are you speaking of sex?" I'd sneered. "Are you telling me to have sex with Bella, now?" My shock amused her and she laughed lightly, rolling her eyes._

"_Oh for crying out loud, Edward. Of course I am, and it is about time someone did."_

_If it wasn't for the fact that I was completely flabbergasted by her audacity and outrageousness, I might have risen to my feet and throttled her where she sat. Instead, all I could do for a long moment was gape. She couldn't possibly be serious?_

"_Rose? I..." I'd slammed my mouth shut and grunted, risen to my feet and then begun to pace as though I sought to find answers in the four corners of the room. "She has been through hell. Someone she loved, trusted, believed in, placed their filthy hands all over her in violence." Every word had escaped my mouth as a hiss forced through clenched teeth. The taste of my venom burned my palate and made my throat ache. "Her body is battered, covered in bruises, her bones haven't completely healed and she struggles through nightmares and panic attacks every day. And you? You think sex is the way to help her?"_

"_Edward..."_

"_Do you even understand at all how dangerous that is for us?" I'd continued in horror. "Do you think she would be benefitted by the very real possibility that I myself could make what Jacob did to her look like a farce. I could hurt her, a thousand times worse than he... I could kill her Rose; do you even comprehend that at all?"_

_She gotten to her feet as well and moved lightening fast to intervene in my back and forth path, stopping me in my track though I would have preferred to plow right over her. "Could," she'd hissed. "But you wouldn't. Not ever, and especially not now. You are the only one who doesn't understand that. Tanya and her sisters mate with humans all the time and they've never damaged any of them, and they can accomplish that even though they have no reason to do so. You, Edward, have every reason to do so."_

"_That doesn't change anything. In this one instance I am as innocent as she and well you know it, sister of mine. Your suggestion and your example fails to note that pertinent little fact. One slip of my self control and I could snap her in half." I'd moved around her and resumed my pacing, needing distance. "As if any of that matters anyway. For God's sake, Rose, she is as psychologically damaged as she is physically. She couldn't possibly want that from me now. Perhaps later, when she's had time to heal, time to put all of this behind her. Besides, her and I have made promises to one another. We will be married and then I have vowed that we will try to...be physically intimate, but I..."_

"_If you can't bring yourself to lay with her, then at least change her now. At the very least her immortality will dim her human memories so much she will lose the ability to feel all this pain."_

_The horror I'd felt at her words must have shown on my face because a small evil smile had instantly formed on her otherwise perfect features._

"_What is the matter, Edward? You don't like that idea either? I wonder why? It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that you equate my violent change with my current personality could it?" She had laughed then and shaken her head. "Her new immortal mind will dim her human memories, but yes, it will also seal in her current state of mind. She will be like me, and like Esme. Forever lost in her unresolved pain, but then aren't we all? You haven't exactly escaped your transformation unscathed either, 'oh perfect one', and there are worse things." Huffing she'd thrown herself into a half sprawl over the pristine white duvet that covered her bed. "That is a moot point anyway. Both of my suggestions go hand in hand. Or did you not hear me say you need to make her yours in __**every**__ way." Sitting up again, she'd curled her feet beneath her and looked at me with a new expression. One more honest and open than I had seen from her in a long time._

"_Edward, try to listen, please. Bella is hurting. Hurting so deeply you can't even begin to fathom it. And as if that pain isn't enough, she is also full of doubts. Doubts about herself, doubts about you. If you continue to allow her to fester in that, well...I just don't know if she'll ever truly heal."_

_My legs had grown numb with the fear her words engendered. Bella never truly healing was not a thought I could handle well. Sinking down into the chair again, I had lowered my head into my hands confused and miserable while Rosalie continued without mercy._

"_She needs to know that you care, that nothing that has happened matters in how you feel about her. That it hasn't changed how much you want her. It hasn't has it?"_

"_No," I'd whispered, though the vehemence in my voice more than made up for the low tone. "I want her as much now as ever. Perhaps more because once again I've been forced to see what my life would be like without her."_

_Rose had scooted closer to the edge of the bed and reached out to grab my hand in hers tightly. Whether or not I chose to heed her suggestions, in that moment her mind had been clear and open. I didn't have to like or agree with her advice, but I could feel the honest love for me, and for Bella, that had given her the strength to go against all her prior convictions to give it._

"_Give her a reason to heal, Edward. Give her you, all of you. Give her a new life. Make her yours in every way. Including in the forever sense. She's already one of us in almost every way. All that is missing is the bite. Hell, marry her first if you have to, but do it now. A wedding will give all of us a reason to get out of this stagnant hole we're in, sitting around waiting for something to happen is killing all of us, Edward. Most of all her. But just do it now, before she can't find her way out of this hell hole she's in."_

As I stand here now, watching the last of the mist that swirls around my feet dissipate in the growing warmth of a new day, I still don't know what to think of Rose's words. I can't help but see the dark truth behind them. Giving Bella a new life in immortality and finally taking the plunge into all our inconclusive desires is more than long overdue. And yet to even assume that Bella would want any of those things after all she has been through strikes me as wrong.

Frustrated, I begin to move deeper into the woods. I sense a male buck not far away but I ignore it. I need something that will be more of a worthy adversary in my current state of mind. Perhaps one of those Grizzlies Emmett has such a penchant for. They are not normally my meal of choice, and no creature aside from another vampire has the strength to challenge my own, but at least its pure size and ferocity will sate the animal instinct in me that a meager buck cannot. As though thoughts of him have acted as a conduit, I suddenly sense Emmett approaching. Huffing slightly I settle down to wait for him, knowing this second confrontation is inevitable. Rose no doubt sent him after me.

It takes him only minutes. As he crosses in front of me he smiles apologetically before joining me on the ground at the base of a tree.

"Did Rose send you?"

He looks slightly chagrined. "Uh, no. I didn't see her actually. She took off with Esme to do some shopping right after your...talk." His large hand tugs at one of the exposed tree roots and it comes out of the ground with a small dirt shower that spatters his dark jeans. I chuckle as he curses. Emmett is still lousy at judging his own strength, even after fifty years.

Brushing the dirt off, he gives me one of his patent grins then leans back with a small sigh. "Alice took Bella to see Charlie."

I instantly move to rise, but he restrains me. "She's fine, Edward. Alice will take care of her, and Carlisle is going as well to give Charlie a check up." He waits until I settle uncertainly back before he lets go of my arm. "Bella seemed good today. Well good for her anyway. I think maybe getting some of that out last night helped?"

He phrases it like a question but I don't know the answer so I shrug slightly and say instead, "I'm sorry you had to feel all of that, Emmett."

"Yeah, that was tough, but...it had to be way harder on you?"

Again I don't acknowledge his question. He has a reason for being here and it isn't to get answers he already knows. "Do you know what Rose told me this morning?"

He doesn't hesitate to nod in the affirmative, and I curse softly. "How can she suggest that right now, Emmett? Damn it, it is ridiculous, not to mention dangerous as hell for me to even contemplate..."

"But you are, aren't you? Contemplating I mean."

My hands tug through my hair making it stand on end as I grunt. "No, hell no!"

Emmett laughs. "Hell yes, you are."

"Jesus, Emmett. What the hell is wrong with me?"

He sighs and shifts his weight so his shoulder touches mine. "There isn't anything wrong with you man. Ease up."

"How can I even be thinking of such a thing when she is so hurt?"

He shrugs and flicks a twig at the tree in front of us. It shatters in pieces like it was made of glass, leaving an indent in the bark of the trunk. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're a man. Because she's yours. Because there is something instinctual and primal about staking a claim on your own mate, especially after that claim was threatened. Maybe because you know you've waited to damn long to make her yours in every way. And maybe, just maybe, because deep down inside, you know Rose is right."

"So you think Rose is right? You think I should be considering any of that?" My voice shakes with an effort to control my emotions. Disgust and incredulity are at war in my guts. Both of them sliding over the unmelted ice ball within that churns anew. God, if I could just get my hands around Jacob Blacks throat maybe some of the pain I feel would end. Maybe that damn ball of ice turning my guts to mush would melt and evaporate for good.

Snorting, Emmett tosses a branch deep into the woods. I hear it crack against another tree limb hard enough to break it in half. "I don't just think she's right, Edward. I know she is. How the hell do you think _she_ knows it? I was the one who showed her, who helped her heal, remember?"

I grunt in disgust. "Sex again. Emmett you'll have to forgive me if I just don't buy it."

"Yeah well, you wouldn't."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He sighs harshly and I realize this conversation can't be easy for him. He's never willingly, or for that matter unwillingly, discussed Rosalie's rape with anyone. "I mean, just because you can see inside people's heads doesn't mean you really understand what goes on in their beds, if you get my meaning. All you see is images and that doesn't come anywhere near the reality of what it is like to share that with someone you love. So maybe you wouldn't understand, any of it. Maybe all you know is the physical mechanics when the real deal is actually very different, at least when it is based on love."

It is my turn to snort and sigh. Despite my frustration and the awkwardness of the topic I can't help but be slightly amused at Emmett's backwards way of getting in my head and trying to see what I do and don't know about sex. Who knew he was capable of being subtle? "Do you really think I would even consider having sex with Bella if I thought it was just a physical mechanic? Like I would risk her life to get off? I'm not an idiot, Emmett. I just don't think putting her safety in jeopardy is a good thing to do when she's already so traumatized by what that bastard did to her..." My jaw snaps shut sealing in the venom and hate, swallowing it down to add to the ice balls rapidly growing size.

He's quiet for a long time and I wonder if the topic is closed. I am hoping the topic is closed, but when he starts to talk again his voice is different. Softer and quieter with a deep inflection full of the undercurrents of his own pain. After only two sentences I have to close my eyes to endure it as he strips his soul bare for me and shows me things I'd never thought to contemplate. Things about Rose and her pain. Things about their relationship and the healing she had to go through. Things intensely private that have somehow become something I need to understand. He spares me images from his mind, careful to keep those shrouded and secret, surprising me with his ability to be tactful and open all at the same time. Though that is all he spares me.

When he stops talking I can see the sun through the canopy of trees burning high and bright in the sky. The silence between us stretches on for a long time before he sighs and turns his head to me.

"So now you know and so I ask you. Do you think I would do Rose any favours even now, if I didn't treat her the way I do? Like a woman and not a fragile artifact meant to be put on a pedestal and admired but never touched? When she was attacked she was innocent, in every way. You know what the time era was like, hell they treated women like helpless mindless little possessions. She only had the vaguest idea of what her wedding night would be like, and to have that...assault be her only experience was almost worse in a way." His eyes continue to hold mine, alive with a mental strength and focus he so rarely ever shows. "Bella is much the same, Edward. You've kept her so innocent. Now all she has floating around in her mind is the images of that mutt, mauling her, forcing her, hurting her. You need to get that out of her head, my brother. Before it roots so deep not even you can pull it out." He gestures to the root he'd pulled earlier with a small grin that doesn't touch his eyes. "I don't wish on you what Rose and I went through, and though I know the situation isn't identical, I've seen that look Bella's wearing one too many times to not know what it is I'm talking about."

He suddenly jumps to his feet and rolls his shoulders. He offers me a hand up I don't need but I take it, and even once I've gained my feet he doesn't let go. His golden gaze burns into mine. A few small weak rays of sunlight have fought their way down into the tangle of trees and brush, and it lights upon our joined hands creating that pale sparkle that marks us as brothers.

"Whatever else you want to think about sex, Edward there is one thing you need to know. Given in love, it has a certain raw healing power. And no, I'm not going all Marvin Gaye on your ass. Bella needs something to hang onto, Edward. Give her something substantial. Give her you, in every way you're capable." Releasing my hand he takes a step back and seems to be giving me the once over. Rubbing a slightly grubby knuckle over his mouth he starts to grin, this time for real. His lips twitch and he shakes his head mockingly. "Well, you ain't me so maybe _substantial_ isn't the best word." His eyes dart down to my crotch and he shakes his head again. "You haven't used that thing in over a century; maybe we should ask Carlisle if there is such a thing as Viagra for vamps..."

I swing a fist at his arm but he moves quickly anticipating the reaction so that my knuckles only barely graze his shoulder. "Ah, ah. You gotta be faster than that, my brother..." He feints to the right but I read his thoughts and the second he turns back I tackle him and take him to the ground.

"Ow! Damn it, Edward!" He groans in disgust as we untangle our limbs. "Ugh, I think I just got violated by that freaking tree root. Christ, it didn't even buy me flowers first." I help him up as we both laugh and he throws his arm around my shoulders.

"Come on," he says. "You can take me to lunch. I hear there is a two for one on Grizzly just a little ways from here. If you're lucky and play your cards right, I might just let you cop a feel. Could be good practice for you." He starts whistling 'Sexual Healing' as his powerful legs carry him forward.

**Bella's Pov**

Charlie's house looks the same as it always has. The coffee table in the living room is different and so is the sofa, but everything else is the same. I know the glass in the window is different but you can't tell that by looking. And even though the walls have been repainted to cover up the plaster repairs from the holes Jacob's fists had made, the color is the same boring beige Charlie had painted 10 years ago. Still when I walked in, I swear I smelled blood. I've been avoiding this room since I got here, but Charlie has set up camp for the day determined not to miss the game.

"You okay, Bells?" Charlie asks warily from his favourite chair as Carlisle begins peeling back the bandage that covers his entire side and half of his chest.

"Yeah, Dad. I'm fine." The lies come easier than ever nowadays. I'm fine is my new favourite phrase and I don't even have to force it now. It comes out like a knee jerk reaction the dozens of times it's needed daily.

"You sure? You got real pale all of a sudden."

"I'm fine, Dad. Really." Carlisle's eyes dart over to mine but I look away before he can see anything. He's far too intuitive to fool. I breathe through my mouth and lay the tray Aunt Julie had forced into my hands in the kitchen on the new table, trying all the while not to think of the old one. There is a few missing items on the shelves as well, but I don't look at those.

"Aunt Julie made tea." I manage a small smile at Charlie's grimace of distaste. He hates tea, but his sister is a force to be reckoned with and the kitchen now resembles a health food store. She's more than out stayed her welcome in my Father's books. As she breezes into the room with a plate of cookies, no doubt made from some type of whole grain or wheat germ concoction, the determined glint in her eye tells me she isn't going to be forced out anytime soon.

"Here we are," she sing-songs, placing the plate on the tray with the tea. "Carlisle, you simply have to try this tea. It is very well known in the Orient for its healing properties. I've been giving Chuck a dose every day and don't you think he looks better?" Carlisle hums something vague and yet at the same time appeasing. She beams like he just gave her high praise while he finishes removing the bandages. The dozens of metal staples that hold my Fathers skin together send my stomach into immediate free fall. I drop the cookie I hadn't really wanted anyway and look somewhere else.

"These should be able to come out very soon, Charlie," Carlisle comments approvingly. "I am very pleased with the progress you're making this week." My Father has been very slow to heal. Between the extent of the bullets damage to his body and the extensive and invasive surgery to remove it, his progress has been slow and painstaking. I am pretty sure his age hasn't helped much in the matter either, and I feel one of those sharp pangs of guilt stab my heart. Avoiding his surgical wounds I study his face dismayed at the new lines that bracket his mouth and the corners of his eyes. His normally dark brown hair is peppered all over with new startling strands of silver and he's lost at least twenty pounds. His softer, rounder middle no longer resembles a beer ad commercial and his skin has a gray cast to it that instantly alarms me. The guilt turns into a band that squeezes tightly.

"Bella have some tea, dear. Goodness, look at you. White as a ghost and too thin besides. Did you eat lunch yet today? I made your Father a lovely tuna salad on whole wheat, now doesn't that sound good?" I'm tempted to say yes just to give her something to do so she'll stop staring at me like I'm a lab experiment, but my clenching stomach warns against it.

"No, thanks. I ate before I came." She frowns and her expression grows shrewd. She might act flighty, but like her brother she is as sharp as a tack and she isn't buying what I'm selling. The tight band of guilt turns into something else and the room suddenly feels warm and stuffy. I swallow hard and focus on my breathing. I haven't had a panic attack all day and after my epic breakdown in Edward's bedroom last night I've felt slightly lighter and less tense. He knows everything now. All of it and he hadn't been angry, he hadn't left. There is something to be said for full disclosure I guess, but even as I think that silly thought it occurs to me. Edward... knows... everything. Not just knows it, he's seen it. Every last ugly, dark moment. He knows. Oh God, what does he think of me now?

"Bella, you're shaking like a leaf. What in heaven's name..."

The full force hasn't hit me yet, but it is so close I can almost hear it breathing down my neck like a living demon. Curling my hands into fists, I take a small step back and breathe. In and out. Again and again. I close my eyes but the darkness bites down and paints pictures I don't want to see, so I snap them back open. Charlie is leaning forward in his chair, his expression startled as he listens to me do my steam kettle interpretation. The stark red lines decorated with silver staples that weave through his patchy chest hair are too shocking. My even breathing grows choppy and the air gets thinner. I wrap my arms around my chest tightly and something in his eyes shows his heart break. It is a long second before I realize that he has seen me do this move before, but I can't unclench my arms. Not even to save him pain.

"I'm fine," I mumble, but not even I'm buying it this time. Aunt Julie reaches out and her hand brushes my arm. Her palm is overly warm from being wrapped around the tea pot and my reaction is unthinking. Jerking away from her I almost stumble over the sofa arm behind me and, Oh God. That makes it worse, but I'm still holding on, determined to beat it. I focus on Carlisle's face. His expression is calm and together as he lays aside the bandages he'd been about to apply on Charlie.

"Perhaps that sandwich is a good idea, Julie. Bella's antibiotics can be a little hard on her system at times. Would you mind?" Carlisle's voice is calm, unconcerned. Stark reason in the insanity and I somehow find a small smile for her as well.

"Yeah, maybe I should eat something. I guess that slice of toast I had this morning isn't cutting it." There is a slight edge of hysteria to my voice, but thankfully she doesn't know me well enough to catch it. The tension in her body eases slightly, whether because she is buying our act or because she has a task to keep her busy isn't clear, but she nods and darts off to the kitchen anyway. Just before she leaves she pats my back gently, and though I see Carlisle start at her action there is little either of us can do to stop it. The fine thread of control I'd been holding onto snaps hard at the unwanted touch that is capable all by itself of triggering an attack. Aside from Edward, all the Cullens know to never touch my back. It is a complicated psychosomatic hot-spot caused by the extensive bruising and pain I'd suffered as a result of Jacob's assault. The bruises have almost completely healed, but the inner scars have not. During the healing process even the lightest touch on my back was painful and I had flinched from every kind of contact. Now the flinch has become automatic and ingrained, and with the muscle contractions comes the memories that can send me over the edge.

Even still, I might have been able to pull it back together were it not for the sight of my Father, trying to shove himself out of his chair. Weak, and impossibly frail the guilt adds a new sharpness to the panic and I can see that his struggles have pulled some of the staples lose. A thin red line of blood trickles over the now loose, flappy skin on his stomach.

"Bella, it's okay, you're safe." Carlisle is quiet, moving towards me slowly, but even though it is him my protective instincts push my feet backwards. "Focus on your breathing now. Slowly, in and out. Everything is okay, just breathe."

A cold sweat breaks out over my body and the smell of blood is everywhere. I can't tell if it is real or imaginary.

"Carlisle, what the hell is wrong with her? Bella, baby, shhh."

I realize I'm making a whimpering sound, but no matter how hard I press my lips together I can't stop the noise.

"She's having a panic attack, Charlie. Bella, remember your breathing. In and out, just like I showed you, slowly. Slower now. Good. Slower, that's right, in and out."

Charlie has his cane under him and he takes a lurching step towards me. God he's so weak now. Jacob look what you've done to us. Why? Charlie didn't deserve this, it isn't his fault, it's mine.

_Isn't it? He called Jacob. Invited him over. He wanted you and Jacob to be together. He wanted to break you and Edward up._

No! I can't think like this. Nothing Charlie did matters, Edward is right. It wouldn't have made a difference really. Not with the Elders and Leah and Jacob planning all along...

There isn't enough air in the room anymore.

"Bella! Listen to the sound of my voice. There is lots of air, more than enough. It is all clean and pure; you just have to breathe it in and out. Slowly, let it fill you up." Carlisle takes another step closer and I take one farther away. His voice is still calm and even. "Charlie, why don't you open the window for Bella. She's feeling a little claustrophobic right now."

"A little? Jesus!" Charlie is shaking and for the first time I wonder what I must look like in this state. Though not even the embarrassment I should feel at that stops the attack and the thought fades away. My heart is racing so hard it feels like a hummingbird has taken up residence in my chest. Like it's panicked as well and fighting to get out, frenzied and terrified. Ignoring Carlisle's request about the window, Charlie takes a few more steps in my direction and the fluttering gets harder. Carlisle places an arm out in restraint and I force myself to focus only on him. Alice is gone, sent to the pharmacy for medication for Charlie, so he's it. My one safe anchor. My brain chants his name over and over again. Nothing can hurt me while he's here.

"Stay still, Charlie, please. Touching her now will only make it worse."

"Do something. Christ it looks like she's going to pass out or have a God damn heart attack. I can see her heart pounding from here." Looking like he can't stay on his feet much longer Charlie sways, and finally I manage to catch my breath a little.

"That's it, Bella, good girl. Slowly now. In and out." I take a step towards him and he nods, holding his hand out to me. A few more and I grab hold of him and the air begins to clear. "Good, slow and even just like that. Everything is okay..." I can see the cell phone in his right hand and I wonder dimly if he'd been texting Edward.

"I'm okay, Dad," I whisper, though we both know I'm not really. My feet suddenly refuse to hold me up but Carlisle catches me easily, lowering me gently to the floor so I can lean against one of the end tables. I put my head against his chest as he crouches beside and strokes my hair softly.

"Keep breathing, Bella. That's it, sweetheart." He chuckles softly and I can feel the vibration in my forehead where it rests against his stone cold chest. "You did well. That one lasted only a few minutes. I believe that is a record."

I might have smiled at that if I wasn't so mortified. I hear Charlie sit down heavily as tears begin to leak from the corner of my eyes. My fingers clench onto Carlisle's shirt to keep him from moving away and his voice lowers to a soft whisper.

"It's okay, I'm right here. I won't leave you, Bella." Like all the Cullen's, he understands what I need to hear. Alice's voice suddenly floats down from the kitchen and I realize she must have come in several minutes ago. Her voice is overly cheerful and too loud. Even with my scrambled mind I can tell she's covering up what is happening in here.

"Wow, that sandwich looks delicious, Julie. Is that your own recipe for tuna salad? Yum. Why don't I take this to Bella while you clean up? If I know Charlie and Carlisle, they'll probably want one too." She's laughing as she enters the room but it stops almost immediately. Setting the plate down she instantly kneels beside me and I let go of Carlisle and grab onto her. A part of me hates the dependence and need that is behind the action, but like the panic attack itself I can't stop it. She kisses my forehead gently with a tremulous sigh.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I shouldn't have left you," she whispers fiercely. Her arms slide under my legs and as though I weigh nothing she lifts me like a small child. "I'll take her upstairs, did you call Edward?"

"Yes, he's on his way."

The thought of staying in the house makes the panicky feeling return and I shake my head against Alice's sweet scented throat. "No, please Alice, I have to get out of here, please." I am about to start crying and I don't want Charlie to see it.

"Take her home, Alice. It's okay, I'll cover."

"Okay, call Edward; tell him to meet us there." I feel only the slightest of breezes before I'm in the car and the engine is racing us towards the only place I feel truly safe.

**Charlie's POV**

I stare at the space my daughter had just been in as though I can bring her back by sheer force of will. It doesn't help that I hadn't even blinked before Alice had carried her out of here. _Alice. Had. Carried. Her._ Barely over five feet she only comes to Bella's nose for Christ's sake!

This entire month has felt more like a damned Twilight Zone re-run than my life, and this situation doesn't help. I watch as Carlisle takes half Bella's sandwich and rolls it in a napkin before tossing it in a bag. He disappears for a split second and then returns and it takes me a minute to realize he must have gone outside to the trash bins with it. A wave of vertigo creates a cold slick of sweat on my palms as he continues to move in that odd fluid way, accomplishing more in a blurred movement than should ever be possible. His cold fingers seem to barely brush over me and the bandages are on. Another brush and my shirt is in my arms and a cup of tea at my side, only half full as though I'd just been sitting here leisurely chatting with the good Doctor while Bella had eaten half her lunch. I am learning more about the art of appearances lately than I have in over three decades of police work.

He disappears yet again, and this time when he comes back he has two more sandwiches. It doesn't take a smart man to realize he's trying to keep Jules in the kitchen as long as possible. Long enough that Bella could have eaten and I could get my act together. He watches me closely, and though I do the same I'll be damned if I can see what the hell he is doing with the sandwich in his lap. Bite size pieces are disappearing and though he's going through the precise and exact motions of eating, I'll be damned again if he is. Ignoring that creepy fact, I focus on the important stuff.

I keep my voice quiet so it won't carry, but let my tone tell him I don't mean to be ignored. "How long has this been going on?" I know I don't have to tell him that I'm referring to Bella's panic attacks.

"A few weeks. I know it is frightening to see your child go through that, Charlie, but you should know it is quite common for someone who has suffered a trauma."

I resist the urge to mock his perfect terms. Trauma seems like a fancy way of sugar coating the truth. She was beaten and nearly raped just before watching her own Father get shot. Yeah, some trauma.

"I've seen panic attacks, Carlisle. In my line of work I've seen all kinds of things, but that was the worst I've ever seen."

"I won't lie to you. You can see with your own eyes that Bella is struggling, but she's making some headway. This attack while severe was much shorter in duration than others she's had." There is something else he isn't telling me, but it doesn't look likely that I could get it out of him. Either way he does seem to be genuine about her getting better.

"Was it being home that triggered it?"

"Possibly, although I have seen her have attacks that have no known trigger."

"She blames me." It isn't a question. For a second during her panic attack I'd seen something cross her eyes. She'd pushed it back, but I read faces for a living.

"No one blames you, Charlie. Bella is trying to make some sense out of everything that has happened. There is a lot to absorb, to piece together. Your part is minor and she will forgive you."

"You wouldn't let me touch her." I don't even try to keep the hurt or the anger out of my words even though I feel as though I'm talking like a spoiled little kid.

His face remains impassive. "Only Edward can touch her in the middle of an attack. If anyone else tries it makes it worse."

"You touched her."

"Only as she was coming out of it and because she sought the contact first. When she comes out of the attack she needs that. But again, only Edward can truly soothe her. Until then she will stay anxious and unsettled. She also often cries and I suspect she didn't want you to see that."

"You called Edward?"

"Yes, he's on his way home."

"Where is he? Why would he leave her alone in this state?"

"He's attending to some personal business that can't be ignored. He rarely ever leaves her side."

"Personal business." Again, I sound angrier than I need to, but I'm through playing nice. "Does that have anything to do with Jacob and the... Pack?" Even more than the existence of vampires the fact that my own so called best friend has hidden such an ugly secret as werewolves has haunted me. All my dreams have become nightmares with images provided courtesy of every horror movie I've ever been dumb enough to watch. More than anything the betrayal stings. Billy's son almost took my life, and from what I can see he just might have damaged Bella possibly beyond repair. Yeah. Some best friend. I've been ignoring his calls for weeks. There isn't anything he can say that can fix this unless he wants to bring that son of his in to the station for processing and his very own cell.

I almost miss Carlisle's answer in my brooding. "No. Edward and I have told you repeatedly, Charlie. We don't know where Jacob is. The Pack has him in hiding and that is all we know."

I suddenly feel exhausted. "Edward is going to go after him, isn't he?" I've asked the question before and never really gotten a straight answer. I'm not expecting one now either.

Finally though, I see some kind of real emotion cross Carlisle's face. It's gone before I can read it, but I feel better having seen something slip past that iron tight control of his. Like I've seen some real flicker of humanity underneath all the cold layers. Not for the first time I wonder how old he is. And I wonder if I'm wrong about that emotion looking an awful lot like Edward might not be the only one who Jacob needs to worry about.

"I honestly don't know, Charlie. He made a vow, if he breaks it nothing good can come of it, but Edward is..." He doesn't finish, but he doesn't need to. Edward comes by regularly and I've never seen anything in his eyes that tells me he isn't still as bent on revenge as he was the day I saw him throw all 200 pounds plus of Jacob Black through my front window. There is something dark and ugly inside that boy, eating him up from the inside out.

_Not a boy._ Not even a man. A chill creeps up my spine and stays there sucking away the last of my energy as I wonder what Edward would do if he knew what I know. I wonder if he'd understand why I'm keeping it a secret from him, or if he'd finally make good on his threat and stop caring that I'm Bella's Father. The chill gets worse and I'm damn glad that Carlisle can't read minds and that Edward isn't on his way here right now. Whatever else I feel about any of this, one thing is damn apparent. Bella needs Edward. Like air, like water, like the God damned safe shelter I was a lousy provider of. And this time I mean to make sure she gets what she needs.

Right now I just need a few more days to get it together because I've never been so powerless in my life. In my mind, in my body, and way down deep in the soul I nearly lost. Funny how that feels like failure. I've never been one to take failure lying down though, and I sure as hell don't mean to start doing it now.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N** Chapter beta'd by Octoberland.

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Chapter 25 Frozen Sun

**Bella's POV**

Like all the Cullens, Alice drives way too fast. I should let go of her hand so she can keep them both on the wheel, but I can't. Her ice cold tiny fingers are the only thing keeping me from falling apart again. She squeezes them gently, smiling with that fake reassurance I hate. I see a lot of that from her lately. Her normal confidence and general know it all charm has done a disappearing act as of late. The fact that she has no idea how to handle her new uncertainties makes her a lousy actress.

I turn away from her expression and focus on the scenery that flashes by the window. Not that I really see anything more than a blur of greens mixing with the intermittent sunshine. It's one of those weird days where everything the Cullens do must be timed with the sporadic patchwork of clouds covering the sky. They are experts at it, making it seem effortless. I guess that is what happens after such a long time learning how to time everything to their advantage.

"Charlie is going to hate me," I whisper, feeling the weight of tears in my eyes blurring the scenery even more. Charlie is the least of my worries right now, but it's the only one I have the courage to voice.

Alice's fingers clench tighter, almost but not quite painful. "Bella, don't be ridiculous. Your father will never hate you."

"You didn't see him, Alice." When she doesn't respond I know I'm right in more ways than one. Not that I needed the proof. Alice's gift has been hit or miss lately thanks to me. She says I'm blocking Charlie from her, but I have no idea how or why. Nothing feels any different and I want her to be able to see Charlie. Her gift could keep him safe and the fact that I'm preventing that, whether it is something I can control or not, just adds to the guilt. "He was so hurt and afraid when I freaked out."

"Carlisle will talk to him, Bella. He'll explain it so Charlie won't need to feel hurt, okay?"

I nod without turning to see her face. More fake reassurance is the last thing I need and I'm grateful when she falls silent. If she can't see Charlie than she has no way of knowing whether Carlisle will be able to convince him of anything. I choose not to shove that obvious little fact back in her face. Besides, she doesn't know Charlie very well if she thinks he'll be that easy to soothe.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat at that thought, I square my shoulders to ask something I've wanted to ask all day. Something for which I would gladly accept even fake reassurance. "Alice?" My voice is a sad whisper. "Can you see me and Edward today, our future I mean?"

Her fingers twitch slightly. "Yes." She steers the car effortlessly into the driveway and I stare at the house that has become both my sanctuary and my prison with rising panic. It takes exactly ten breaths and ten swallows before I can ask what I need to ask.

"He's going to leave me isn't he?" I don't know if there is any volume to my question but I'm not the least bit surprised when she answers hastily.

"Nothing has changed, Bella. I still see you and Edward together. Always!" The adamant tone in her voice is firm, unwavering. The cold that seems to have settled permanently into the marrow of my bones doesn't ease in the slightest though. I reach for the door handle only to realize that Alice has not relinquished her tight grasp on my hand.

"Bella. Edward is not going to leave you again."

I nod, though I don't bother to look at her. Keeping my hand on the door, aching to get out, I wait for her to release me.

She huffs loudly. "Why won't you believe me?"

The trembling starts again and with it the nasty somersaults that twist my stomach into knots. Being safe with Alice doesn't stop the knee jerk reaction of panic at feeling trapped in the car. The feeling loosens the locks on my emotions and my mouth, and fears I don't want to admit to tumble out in a mush of words. If she were human she wouldn't have understood them and maybe I could have held on to my dignity. She isn't human and my dignity went down the drain weeks ago.

"He doesn't touch me, Alice. Not like he used to...before." A sob cuts off my words and Alice instantly sets in with nonsense about Edward wanting to give me time, space and blah blah blah. I try again in vain to pull away, but she won't let go. The panic scrabbles harder at my throat making me blurt out more words I don't want to say. They sound as needy and whiny and pathetic as they feel. No matter how hard I try I can't seem to get a grip on my emotions. I feel like two separate people, one who's falling apart and the other who's standing there watching in disgust, completely unable to stop it.

"He never talks about the wedding!" The silence that follows my outburst is heavy and strangely confining. Staring hard at my hand on the door handle I see chill bumps break out over the skin on my arm, tiny hairs rising to attention. I'm so cold it feels like the car AC is blasting over me when in fact Alice has already removed the keys from the ignition.

"We're supposed to get married in a few weeks Alice, or did you forget?" I know she hasn't. Vampires don't forget, ever, and even if they did she wouldn't. Not Alice, planner extraordinaire. "He hasn't said a word about it, not one. And when I say he doesn't touch me, I mean... Before, we were making...progress. We were planning...working on...intimacy and now. He doesn't want me, Alice and I don't blame him. I don't even know if I...even...if after what happened if I can..." There is no way to finish the thought. It doesn't matter anyway. I can practically feel her pity and I know she understands perfectly what I'm saying, even if I am a stuttering mess.

Forcing myself to turn, the tremors quaking over my body causing my freshly healed ribs to burn, I scrutinize her expression. Her face turns from pity to a marble mask, telling me more with the lack of emotion than any words could. In her eyes I can read her sadness and the frantic scramble of her mind to come up with some reassurance for the pathetic, weak human falling apart beside her. Before she has to lie I turn back to the window.

"Alice, please. Let me go."

"Bella, I've seen..."

I can't stand to hear it again. Not when I know that nothing she sees is concrete. Not when I know that nothing can be trusted, least of all her honesty. Even perched on the fine edge of a massive panic attack I can still read the people I love.

"Let me out, Alice. I...I need to...I feel sick, I need to go to the bathroom." My mind scrambles for excuses, anything just please, God let me out of this car." Her icy grip releases and the locks open simultaneously. I spring from the car as though it's on fire. I can't outrun her, I don't even try instead forcing my feet to walk slowly into the house. The panic flicks in and out as inconsistent as my heartbeat. I gain control of it for a minute only to lose it in the next. The frustrating see-saw motion of my changing emotions aggravates my tender stomach.

Thankfully, Alice leaves me alone as I make my way to Edward's bedroom and settle into the chair in the corner by the window. I win the war with the panic attack bit by bit until all that is left is a cold hollow ache in the center of my chest. Watching the clouds in the sky get heavier soothes the last of my frazzled nerves and I don't miss the irony. Once upon a time I used to crave the sun and its glorious heat and light. I used to think living without it would be the very definition of hell. Now all I need is a blanket of gray and the cold solid touch of someone who may not want me anymore. If I'm thrown back out in the sunlight now, I'll burn to ash. Define hell.

**Edward's POV**

Closing my phone I run my hand through my hair and curse long and loud. I should have known better than to leave Bella alone. No matter what I was dealing with I needed to be there for her and I wasn't.

"What is it?" Emmett leaves his fresh kill to be at my side.

"Bella. She had a panic attack at Charlie's. Alice is taking her back to the house."

"Is she okay?"

"Alice just texted me. She says Bella is alright, but..." The breeze changes direction, carrying the scent of something long dead and decaying to my nose. Probably the leftovers of our leftovers.

"But you don't believe her." His voice is resigned, and he shakes his head with a small smile.

"Lately, Alice has a tendency to try and keep me out of her thoughts," I offer in explanation.

"Yeah," he answers with a small laugh. "She really hates not being the mighty all knowing all seeing one, doesn't she? Bella's little talent is really messing with her head."

"It's more than that. She's trying to be a friend to Bella and a sister to me. Sometimes the two don't mix."

He grunts in understanding. "Meaning she's keeping things about Bella from you."

It isn't phrased as a question so I don't bother answering. Instead I gesture to the bear carcasses. "Can you clean up here? I should get back."

"Absolutely." Clapping his hand on my shoulder he squeezes tightly. "You're not going to blame yourself for not being there for her today are you? Because I have to tell you, Edward that blame shit is getting old. You have to take care of yourself if you want to keep taking care of her."

I can't help but grin. Who knew behind the wise ass there is actually something...wise. "I'll try to remember that, Dr. Emmett."

Rolling his eyes he turns and slings one of the bears over his shoulder. Its feet drag against the ground, the lethal claws blunted from repeated blows against Emmett's unaffected skin. Just as quickly his expression turns serious and sad. "Just my opinion, Edward, but it doesn't surprise me that being at Charlie's house would set Bella off. I was there with Carlisle the other day and it doesn't matter that it's been cleaned. It still reeks like dog and the vibe is all wrong. It's like a psychic imprint on the damn walls. No wonder she had a panic attack. You should keep her away from there."

I don't bother to tell him that if it had been up to me she wouldn't have been there. The fact that I'd been here with him glutting my thirst and contemplating sex instead of with Bella, is my fault not his. Sharing the fact would not absolve any of my guilt and might only succeed in throwing it upon him.

"Being there is hard for her, yes," I say instead. "But it sounds as though she was handling it. Then she started to struggle and Julie tried to comfort her by rubbing her back." At the very least if I'd been there I could have read Julie's intentions and prevented the action that had catapulted Bella from struggling into a full blown attack. As I remember yet again the reasons why I hadn't been there to do either of those things, shame washes over me. Since the emotion is useless I brush it off, not surprised when a slight residual clings stubbornly.

Emmett's curse word reply is particularly vulgar. I'd wince if I wasn't so use to his ever evolving list of profanities. "No wonder then. Even I know not to do that and I'm an insensitive lout."

I can't help but grin internally at that comment. I wonder if he even realizes how far he's gone today in proving that to be the farthest thing from the truth.

He narrows his eyes at me as though he can read my mind, or at the very least the expression on my face. Wisely I don't share my errant thought. He won't appreciate having his carefully constructed "insensitive lout" routine revealed for the sham it is.

"Why is that woman even still there?" he grunts. "It's bad enough that Charlie knows what he knows. If she gets wind of something as well we're going to have a whole new set of problems we don't need. Or do I have to remind you we are already on the Volturi radar way too much for comfort?"

He doesn't need to remind me, Carlisle and I have had more discussions on the topic than I care to recall. Despite being more tenacious than a Terrier the only reason Charlie's sister hasn't been sent packing is that I've been monitoring her thoughts closely from the moment she arrived. Unlike Charlie and Bella, her mind is an open book. Just like Charlie however, she sees what she wants to see. Julie Swan lives in a world of black and white, exactly as she prefers. She might know there is more going on than she's being told, but she isn't about to look for answers she doesn't want.

Interpreting my silent response, Emmett sighs. "Fine, I'll stay out of it, but I still think Bella's better off not going there."

"It's her Father, Emmett. I'm not going to keep her away from Charlie or her home."

He shakes his head, exasperated as though I'm missing the point. "That place isn't her home, Edward. Not anymore. Her home is with us, where she's safe, where she doesn't have to be slammed with memories of what happened. And Charlie? Hell, he should be with us too. He knows too damn much and I don't trust the Pack, at all."

"Or him?" I ask ruefully.

Shrugging his shoulders easily despite the massive thousand pound plus bear lying across them, he contemplates my question for less than a second. "I trust you, Edward. I'm guessing you know what's in his head, whether or not his knowing is a bad thing or not?"

My turn to shrug. "Charlie's mind is a lot like Bella's in some ways. It isn't easy to read him." I let my eyes drift over the clearing, marking small inconsequential details with the part of my mind that will hold this moment like a perfect vivid snapshot. I wonder vaguely how much I should share with Emmett when it comes to Bella's father. "He's keeping something from me." I look back at him trying to gauge his reaction. He gives me nothing to read, his face blank, waiting. "I think he knows where Jacob is."

The blank look dissipates, and he growls angrily. "Why the hell didn't you tell me that? We should go right now. Get him to tell us."

"No," I reply with a low voice tinged with warning. "Charlie's health is precarious. Carlisle is worried about his heart. The gunshot and the surgery have seriously weakened his arterial wall and he's no longer a young man. Stress is dangerous for him and I won't have his safety compromised, not even for the sake of finding _**Jacob Black**_." I spit the dog's name out angrily and Emmett growls again, forcing me to take a menacing step towards him. "No," I repeat more forcefully. "If anything happens to Charlie now, Bella will never recover. You know this, Emmett. Besides, I have Jasper and Carlisle watching his every move. If he does what I think he will, Charlie's going to hand Jacob over to us on a silver platter."

For a long moment he doesn't say anything, but his expression grows darker and darker. By the time he's done digesting what I've told him his eyes have turned pitch black again, as though he'd hadn't fed mere minutes ago.

"Tell me you're going to leave a piece for me, Edward. All I need is just one."

He's close enough to me that I can smell the sudden rush of venom that floods his mouth and sweetens his breath. It mingles with the blood from the bear and the musky fermented smell of death, triggering an equal blood lust instinct in me. The anger that I hold inside churns icily and bubbles up into my throat, spreading cold fingers outward over my body. I can see my reflection in the flat black mirrors of his gaze. I'm not the least bit surprised to see that my eyes are even blacker than his.

"When I'm done with Jacob Black, pieces are all I intend to leave. Feel free to take your pick."

**Bella's POV**

I can't seem to get warm. Even curled in the chair by Edward's bedroom window with the sun streaming through the glass I feel like I'm in the Arctic. There is a blanket on the end of the bed but I don't reach for it. Instead I sit shivering, curled in on myself trying not to inhale the scent of cheese and fried bread coming from the tray beside me. For the most part Alice has tried to respect my need to be alone, but that hasn't stopped her from finding excuses to check on me. The latest excuse being that I needed to eat. I scowl at the cold, grilled cheese sandwich artfully arranged in perfect equilateral triangles, and barely resist the urge to gag.

Unable to tolerate one more second of the smell, I finally find the will to unclench my arms from around my knees. I leave the room pausing just long enough to grab the blanket off the bed. In the yard just beyond Esme's extensive garden I find the biggest patch of sunlight I can and shed my sweater. The skin on my arms is sickly pale making me scowl in disgust. When was the last time I just laid in the sun? An image of the day of the attack floods my head and I have to force it back so it won't consume me. The memory makes me want to go back in the house. Just the act of spreading the blankets hits me with a sense of déjà vu strong enough to make me dizzy. Refusing to give in to it I pull the barrettes from my hair, yanking my fingers through the snarls, smoothing it out around my shoulders.

Ignoring every rule about sun screen and sun damage I stretch out on my back and stare at the sky. Some of the clouds have turned wispy and even when they slide over the sun they don't completely block the rays. I can feel the heat on the surface of my skin. Though it does absolutely nothing to warm me I stay where I am, determined and resolute. I know the only thing that will make me warm is something infinitely colder than the weak Fork's sunlight. Problem is I'm beginning to think I'm going to have to walk away from that warmth. It's going to be like walking away from my own life. Not that it will matter. I don't have a life without him, without his love.

A heavier, darker cloud obscures the sun completely pushing the wispier ones away. I shut my eyes as tight as I can and focus my thoughts completely on willing it to hurry up and move.

**Edward's POV**

Alice is waiting for me at the edge of the woods. Beyond her I can see Bella, lying on a blanket in the sunlight, her eyes closed and her hair spilling all around her shoulders. She looks unbelievably lovely. My body tightens in an unmistakable ache and I scowl at Alice in reaction to a hunger I have no right contemplating.

Bella is far enough away that she cannot hear us or be aware of our presence. I lower my voice regardless. "How is she?" I'm asking for more than just her current emotional state and Alice understands. She searches my face and I close my eyes with a small plea. "Alice, I'm begging you, please. Don't keep things from me." When I open them again she looks infinitely sad.

Her mind shows me the conversations she'd had with Bella in the car. Then she shows me more than I want to see. She shows me a future without Bella. A future where Bella, feeling alone and believing I don't love her the way I used to walks away from me forever. An unfathomable, dark, sickening future. By the time she's done my eyes are closed again.

Every time I think my stone cold silent heart couldn't possibly break any more, it does.

"You have to get through to her, Edward or you're going to lose everything. You're going to lose _her_, we all are." Alice's usually musical voice becomes a sibilant hiss. "You are not the only one who loves her, Edward. I can't lose her again, none of us can. Find a way to stop this."

When I open them again, I kiss Alice lightly on the forehead and whisper thank you. It takes less than a second to cross the distance between Bella and me. Even that is too long for me.

Despite the warmth of the day and the sun that envelopes her body, her skin is covered in goose bumps as though she's chilled. There is such an intense look of concentration on her face it startles me. I say her name softly and watch as her eyes open slowly. They are so full of sadness. A bottomless well of it that threatens to drown us both if I don't do something to ease it.

"_Give her something to hold onto, Edward. Give her you, all of you, in every way you can."_

Rose's words echo in the back of my mind, taunting me. How can I know what the right actions are? There is no denying how much I want her. Call it lust, call it love, call it what Emmett did, a primal instinct to take back what's mine. The name or the why of it no longer matters. All that matters now is that I am standing on the very edge of a precipice poised to lose the only thing in my wretched existence that means anything.

"You're back," she whispers. Two words, a simple statement of fact and yet so much more than just that. In those simple words she conveys everything she feels, all her doubts and fears, her pain and insecurity, and suddenly I understand. She doubts me because I doubt myself. She's afraid because I haven't been strong enough to not be afraid myself. And her pain and insecurity are caused by the simple fact that I've given her no solid reason to feel secure. All I've given her are words and it isn't enough.

Not in the face of what that _dog_ did to her. Not when he'd given her so many words in the past, words that turned out to mean nothing in the end. Words he'd twisted and broken right along with her body. In my arrogance I believed my words should be enough, as though they should mean more to her than his. But he isn't the only one who's hurt her. Once upon a time it was the hurt I'd caused that sealed his presence into her life in the first place. Why should she believe in my words now? In the face of all of that, how could she? What real reason have I ever given her to do so?

I'd told her I loved her, that she was my reason to exist, and then I'd left her. I'd told her I couldn't live without her, that she was all I wanted, and then I refused to give her the one thing that would guarantee we could be together forever. Immortality. I bargained and coerced and bribed her using every tool at my disposal to get what I wanted, and to withhold from her what she wanted. I even used physical love and her need for it to my own advantage.

In that instant the indecisive nature of my thoughts vanishes completely. In its place comes a certainty stunning in its clarity. I will give her something more than weak words. If she will allow it, I will give her everything she's ever wanted.

Behind me Alice sighs, and a different future spills from her mind to mine, created it would seem by my decision. Not the perfect fairytale future I would have chosen, but perhaps one more beautiful and treasured for all its flaws. I'm not inclined to judge it. That it is a future with both Bella and I together is more than enough for me, and I am focused entirely on the present anyway.

**Bella's POV**

Edward's eyes are black. It's the first thing I notice and I wonder why he didn't hunt while he was away. Then I remember that his eyes had been normal when he'd left this morning and I begin to notice other things. The small smudge of dirt on his otherwise immaculate shirt and the way his hair looks as though he's been tugging at it with his hands. His eyes seem to get darker when I whisper "you're back", and his expression does as well. Like he's reading more into those simple words then I'd ever want him to. I try to look away, not wanting my face to give away even more, but like always it's impossible. More than like always, because right now he's gone beyond mere breathtakingly gorgeous and straight into the dark angel territory that makes my traitorous body spark into guilty life.

His nostrils flare slightly and a small lethally sexy smile plays across his mouth. If it wasn't for the sadness in his eyes I might have thought he'd caught some weird pheromone scent coming off my skin, giving my instinctual reaction away.

The cloud is still blanketing the sun and the air has grown cooler, but the shiver that works its way over my body has nothing to do with how cold I am.

"It looks as though the sun may have made its last appearance of the day," he remarks without taking his eyes off mine. "Would you like to come inside with me?"

It's in my mind to say no, to stay where I am until I turn into the block of ice on the outside that I feel like on the inside. There is something almost pleasurable about the thought of just staying here and never moving again. Yet already my back is aching from the hard ground and I know it's only going to get worse. I'm miserable enough without that so I nod; try to force my stiff muscles to move. Before I can even accomplish more than lifting my head I'm off the blanket and cradled in Edward's arms, his long legs carrying me towards the house. My small quick gasp of surprise is ridiculously delayed making him chuckle. I'm on the verge of telling him to put me down, though in truth it is the last thing I want, when he leans his head close to mine and whispers in my ear.

"I've missed you, Bella."


	26. Chapter 26

A/N Special thanks to Octoberland for the beta work.

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Chapter 26 Finding our Way

Edward's POV

She looks surprised by my words. The expression makes her features even more endearing. I know she doesn't yet fully understand the meaning behind them. On the surface it would seem an odd thing to say; I've only been away from her for a few hours. If she could see inside my heart and mind she'd understand however, that I mean it in other ways as well. I've missed her. The beautiful creature I fell in love with that I can just now see coming back to me. There is nothing I won't do, won't give to bring her out of the darkness and into the light. I love her more than her human mind can comprehend.

I place a tender kiss on the warm skin of her neck and look towards Alice. She's still standing just out of sight, searching through our new found future, thankfully skirting her mind away from the more intimate details. She's looking for the bigger picture, focusing on the elements that pertain to her. I lower my voice to the level beneath human hearing.

"Alice, I need you to run interference. Bella and I need some time alone, but I don't want the house to be left unguarded." I wince internally at the thought that someone needs to be close by, and that someone probably needs to be Carlisle. Should anything go wrong tonight, I will need his guidance and support. I still have no idea if what I'm contemplating is even possible or if it will even be something Bella will want. So much has changed; nothing is the same. Not our previous innocent promises or vows, and certainly not us. Just as our love for each other has altered us forever, so has this hell we've endured. Still, I know one thing for certain. Whatever the outcome of this moment I will protect her in every way I can. Even if it means that my Father needs to be present during what should be - in a perfect world - private.

"I'll take care of it, Edward. Don't worry. I can see it's all going to be fine now. It's going to…Oh!" Her voice turns sharp. "Don't look at that, Edward. Just stay out of my head. I will tell you if there is anything you should know, okay?" She disappears into the woods, most likely to find Emmett and intercede before he can make an untimely appearance.

I realize I'm frowning when I feel Bella's fingers running over my forehead as though she can smooth away the expression. I rearrange my features into one of warmth, and lock the door on what Alice's thoughts had shown me. It had been too quick to interpret with any accuracy. Something to do with the meadow and something she needed to prepare for. Now is not the time for her to keep me in the dark about anything, but neither is it the time to stress that point with her. Not with Bella in my arms, and certainly not when I plan to make her understand with every means available to me that she is my life.

Stepping past the house's threshold I gently place her back on her feet. Whatever happens from this moment on will happen of Bella's own volition. Though she doesn't yet know it, she alone will control my every action.

Pushing all other thoughts from my mind takes a monumental effort, but I succeed and turn to face her. She looks tired and fragile and heartbreakingly beautiful. For a moment my fears threaten to make me contemplate all that could go wrong.

I offer her a slow smile, the one that always seems to make her pulse race. "You look tired, love. Shall we go upstairs?"

She's studying me intently, searching my face for some clue as to my mood. Holding out my hand in offering she takes it quietly and I lead her to the staircase.

"You had a difficult morning," I remark casually as we enter the bedroom. An untouched tray of food sits by the chair at the window. Her appetite has been non-existent since the attack and the damage it is doing to her body is apparent in the sharp feel of the bones in her hand and wrist. I resist the urge to reprimand her for not eating, choosing instead to hope that I can coax her to do so later. Her hand in mine is limp and as much as I worry about her health I know we have much more important things to tend to.

She sighs deeply. "I wish Carlisle hadn't called you. He can't..._I_ can't keep expecting you to swoop in and pick up the pieces when I fall apart."

Her beautiful face is pinched in anger and frustration, and I watch fascinated as she battles back the emotions. She doesn't recognize her own strength but I do.

"I want to be there for you, Bella."

"Do you?" The words are muttered beneath her breath. In her upset she's forgotten my vampire hearing and when she realizes it she hurries on, rushing her words in an attempt to cover her slip. "I have to learn to start handling things on my own, Edward. You won..._can't_ always be there." I don't miss the second slip either. That I've allowed her faith in me to erode to such a point is unforgivable.

Her arms slide around her middle and her breathing quickens. She begins a rhythm of swallowing and breathing that she's adopted to calm herself, and within only a few short minutes she's successful. Again I watch fascinated. Carlisle is amazed at her ability to do this so soon after all she's been through and I can't help but feel the same. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder can manifest itself in many ways. Yet it is extremely rare for someone to be able to gain control over panic attacks as severe as hers in such a short amount of time. It is a pity she cannot see herself more clearly. For a human she is remarkably strong. The knowledge gives me the courage to push her.

"You spoke with Alice in the car today." Her face pales and she picks at imaginary lint on her sweater with overzealous concentration. Moving to stand in front of her I tip her chin up so that I can see her face. "Will you not ask the same questions of me, love? I might be in a better position to answer them than she is, don't you think?"

Scowling slightly she pulls away and goes to the chair, curling her legs beneath her and closing her eyes. "I should know better than to say anything to anyone whose head you have access to," she mutters crossly. I settle onto the ottoman at her feet fighting the urge to smile. "You don't have to do this, Edward." There are tears in her eyes when she opens them. I want to launch into a long list of all the reasons why I do have to do this, ending with an expletive filled rant on how ridiculous her beliefs are. I rein in the impulse however, never more grateful for my years of practiced self control.

"I beg to differ, Bella. I very much have to do this."

"Why?" she whispers softly, sadly. "You've already seen it in Alice's mind."

"I don't want to see it in Alice's mind. I want to hear it from you."

**Bella's POV**

He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales loudly with his eyes closed. He's angry, though I'm not sure why. It isn't me asking to have this conversation. Tiny flutters of panic compress down on my chest getting worse with the realization that all I want to do is crawl out of this chair, and straight into his lap. I don't care that he's upset, I need his arms around me the same way I need air. God, I'm pathetic.

His eyes are still so dark when he opens them. "Ask me the same questions you asked Alice please." Words spoken with such tight control should never sound as velvet as his do. I force my eyes away from those impossible dark depths and look out the window. Fat drops of rain have begun to fall sporadically, making tiny thumping noises on the glass.

"I'm afraid Charlie won't ever forgive me," I say, fully expecting him to call me out on the obvious evasion. He doesn't. With a small sigh he reaches across and takes my hand. His thumb brushes back and forth over the skin between it and my index finger, an innocent cool touch that electrifies my entire body.

"Look at me please." Like an automaton I instantly turn my head to him. "I've been inside your Father's mind, Bella. He does not blame you. He is not angry with you. He loves you very much, nothing has changed, nor will it." His tone is firm and his eyes never waver. "Next question."

I try to tug my hand away from his, but he holds it firmly. "Don't make me do this, Edward." His eyes turn sad, though I can see the determination behind the emotion. He isn't going to let this go. I yank my hand harder feeling a snap of anger and he releases me.

"Ask me the question."

"Why, so you can lie? So you can make promises you probably can't keep? So you can tell me what I want to hear? You lied to me before, Edward. Why should I ask you now when we both know you could change your mind tomorrow? Or am I supposed to ask you every day, just to be sure?" I can hear myself yelling and the words I'm saying make me feel sick when his face twists in pain. I'm not playing fair. Throwing things he can't change back in his face. The panic is clawing at my throat again and it makes me mean, makes me want to hurt him.

"Ask me the question," he repeats stubbornly, refusing to rise to the bait.

"Swear you'll tell the truth." My throat closes on the plea and I can taste tears in my mouth. I didn't even know I'd started to cry. There is a red tinge to the corners of each of Edward's eyes and though I know better I'd almost swear he's crying too. The sadness overflowing them is so heavy he might as well be.

"I swear, Bella."

I can't stand to look at his face, his impossibly perfect angel's face. Not now so I close my eyes again. "Are you going to leave me?" The tightness in my throat clamps down on the words choking out all volume so that I can't even hear the question. Only the slight vibration of my vocal chords and the sound of air passing over my lips lets me know I even asked. It doesn't matter, I know he hears.

His answer comes without a pause. "Never."

I wait for more. Wait for promises, for explanations, for empty words that don't come. After a long time I open my eyes. He hasn't moved and the red tinge around his eyes is darker, blending in with the purple semi circles below them. He reaches for my hand again. His grip is solid and he flips my hand, palm down, placing his thumb just beneath the engagement ring that had once belonged to his Mother. His eyes do not leave mine but the pad of his thumb unerringly finds the center point of the gems. He presses it down so that the warm gold band digs into the bone, painfully reminding me of everything he's promised.

"Never," he repeats adamantly one last time, and I fall utterly and completely apart.

**Edward's POV**

When she begins to cry it hurts. I want so badly to pull her out of that chair and into my arms. To soothe her with my touch, but I don't. She needs to do this; I need her to do this. I tell myself it's cathartic, human, necessary. I tell myself a million things and I cling to her hand trying to convince myself that this simple touch is enough for now. We are not done and it is bound to get worse before it gets better.

When the crying turns messy I let go of her just long enough to bring her Kleenex. When it gets messier still, a warm damp wash cloth from the bathroom, then a glass of water and a pillow from the bed. Eventually I hold not just one hand but both of them. And just when I know I can't take anymore and begin to reach out and pull her into my arms, she finally stops.

The rain has turned from drizzle to downpour, and through red swollen eyes she watches the water spiral down the outside of the glass. The tip of her nose is just as red as her eyes. She's a mess and dozens of soggy tissues litter the floor and the chair around us. Despite it all she's never been more beautiful or more alluring than in this moment. I have a sudden vision of lifting her off the chair and tumbling her down onto the bed. Of stripping her naked and making love to her over and over again until there isn't a single doubt left in her mind of how much I love her. Then maybe I'd bundle her into the car, drive all night to Vegas. Find the nearest cheesiest Elvis impersonating Justice of the Peace and get married in our jeans and t-shirts. Get a room at the nearest hotel and stay there for weeks, never letting her out of bed, learning all the different ways we could love each other. All the different ways I could make her pant my name until she's too spent to do anything more than sleep in my arms. Peacefully and without the nightmares that have haunted her, trusting me once again to keep her safe.

She turns back from the window, catching me in mid thought. Whatever she sees on my expression makes her eyes widen and her heart thump. I force the expression to go flat. This is the worst possible time for fantasies.

"Tell me why you think I would ever leave. Why you doubt me."

A small touch of pink dusts her cheeks. It is so faint it is barely there, but the absence of her infamous blushing over these few weeks have left me aching for its return. If it could my heart would be racing at the sight, slight as it is.

"You already know. Why do I have to repeat what you've already heard and seen in Alice's head?" The small flare of kittenish temper is nearly as titillating as the blush. I want to kiss her and see if I can taste that anger in her mouth. Instead I shake my head.

"Tell me, Bella."

Exhausted she lets her head fall against the back of the chair, staring at the ceiling. "You've seen everything," she whispers. "Everything he did to me, everything I said to him. Why would you...?" With her head tipped back I can see the throb of her pulse, see the effort it takes for her muscles to swallow past the lump in her throat. "Why would you want me after that? How can you want me after that?"

"Bella, you've seen me at my worst. You watched me kill Victoria, you watched me almost kill _you_ that day in the ballet studio when James..." I can't finish the sentence, the memory even now more than I can bear. "You've seen me in my darkest moments, you know all my darkest secrets and yet you love me anyway. If I told you that someone had hurt me, would you love me less, want me less?"

"No, of course not."

I wait for her slower thoughts to catch up. The slight look of chagrin makes me smile even though she doesn't look at me.

"It's different," she whispers, but her tone is tinged with new doubt.

"Is it?"

"Yes, I mean... I don't know." Failing afternoon light catches the reddish tones in her hair as she shakes her head in confusion. A wayward curl falls across her cheek and her eyes flash in sudden irritation. "You don't touch me anymore. Not like you used to...before." The delicate rose color on her cheeks flares a little darker this time. "I mean you touch me but..." She sighs in a sound that is half embarrassment half frustration, and drops her head to look at me. "Before we were...practicing for our wedding night." The rest of her words come out in a rush as though she's afraid I'll interrupt. "A part of me understands, Edward. Really I do. I know you're worried about me, that you're trying to be careful, to give me time. But another part of me feels like maybe..." Exhaling hard enough to move the curling strand of hair off her cheek, she ducks her head and picks at the fresh Kleenex in her hands.

Placing my finger beneath her chin I force her to look back up at me again. I need to see her eyes, her expression, and the sweet beauty of her face. "Another part of you feels like maybe...?" I prompt. I could finish the sentence for her but I need to hear her say it in the hopes that my response will somehow reach her.

"Like maybe you've changed your mind. That maybe you don't want me like that anymore."

"Bella, I want you in all ways." I trace her lips with the tip of my finger marveling like always at their perfect supple warmth. With a sigh I take my hand away and fix her with a strong gaze. "But you have been hurt, love. What Jac..." I have to close my eyes and clench my hands into fists to finish the sentence. "What _he_ did to you? That leaves wounds and not just the ones you can see." The anger is just as raw and brutal as always. I shove it away striving for my equilibrium. Rage at Jacob has no place in this conversation. When I open my eyes again I'm back in control.

"You need time to heal. Physically and emotionally." Frustratingly she looks away from me again, taking her expressions and her thoughts with her. I resist the urge to plead with her not to do so. She needs space and time to get her own thoughts in order. I know this level of candor is hard for her, even at the best of times. And this most certainly is not the best of times.

"I know it's going to take time to heal," she murmurs. "I just need to know you still want _that_ with me."

In spite of my resolve to give her space I cannot handle being unable to see her eyes. "Bella, look at me please." I wait impatiently for her to comply, and then capture her face between my palms. The warmth of her is searing and wondrous. "I still want _that_ with you, love. Very, very much."

For a second the impulse to show her exactly how much is strong. Her eyes however squash that impulse. Now that she can't look away I can see the fear and insecurity in their depths and I know we've come to the next point in her confession to Alice. I wait for her to voice her fears and when she does not I know that once again I need to push her past this. Lowering my hands to capture hers I ease my body back a little more than it was before, striving for an acceptable pressure free distance without losing contact.

"Do you want me to touch you like that again, Bella? Are you ready for that?"

She swallows nervously avoiding my gaze while her palms grow damp against mine. Her gaze flits restlessly around the room unable to settle on any one thing for more than a second. With a deep intake of breath I see her shoulders square and she looks at me bravely.

"Yes," she whispers licking her lips past a sudden dryness in her mouth. "But I'm afraid." A single tear hovers on her lower lash. Cupping her cheek I wait for it to fall and catch it on the tip of my thumb. It carries the essence of Bella's floral scent tinged with salt and sadness, the heat of it a shocking pierce on my skin. Her fear makes me ache with matching sadness.

"Tell me what you're afraid of," I ask quietly.

The pulse of her carotid artery beats out a steady rhythm against the fingers that find their placement beneath her jaw line. Another tear joins the first.

"I'm afraid that I won't...be able to...stand it." Her words catch on a small sob and she shakes her head turning her mouth to my palm. The sweet exhale of her breath on my skin feels exquisitely raw, awakening hungers I normally suppress. I realize that before the attack Bella and I had ceased to go a single day without pushing and testing the edges of our boundaries. I'd almost forgotten how erotic the feel of her soft sighing breaths across my skin were.

Her expression turns pleading, as though she's begging me to understand something as yet undefined. "I know that Jacob didn't..." She has to swallow several times before she can continue. "I know he didn't rape me. I know I was lucky that he didn't."

The churning ball of ice in my guts is suddenly so large I'm not sure my body can contain it. She has no real concept of just how true her words are. In those moments between Charlie's arrival and mine, I'd read Jacob's mind. He'd meant to finish what he'd begun. Whatever conscience or morality had governed him in his life it had been lost to the drugs and the rage that rendered him unforgivably violent. If it takes me the rest of my immortal existence I will make him pay for that violence. Not just the act he committed, but the one he'd contemplated as well.

She's looking out the window again, struggling for her words and this time I'm thankful. If she were to see the expression of pure hate on my face it would no doubt terrify her. By the time she looks back I've choked back both the look, and the impending explosion.

"Still, he touched me, Edward. In ways that you...haven't." Again her eyes plead for understanding. "I hate that," she cries. "I hate that so much, you have no idea..."

"Bella, I..." I can't stand to see so much pain but she cuts me off, squeezes my hand hard enough it probably will leave bruises on the undersides of her fingers.

"No! Let me finish, please." I lower my hand from her face and wrap it around the arm of the chair. The wood frame crackles beneath its plush fabric cover, compressed by the force of my grip. I don't know if I truly have the strength to endure this conversation. The urge to run from the room shames me into staying.

"Now that is all that's in my head. Him. His touch, the way it hurt, how scared I was, how sick it felt even when he was trying to be gentle..." She makes a small helpless choking sound and I wonder if she's going to be sick. I move slightly, prepared to help her if she is. Sensing my actions and the reasons behind it she shakes her head. "No, I'm okay. I'm alright." Slowly she forces her panic and illness down while I wait helpless and as sick as she.

"What if I can't stand it, Edward? What if I end up never being able to let you touch me? What if every time you do, all I remember is...that?"

I could tell her a million things in this moment. I could tell her it wouldn't matter, that I could live without it, that she never needed to prove anything or do anything and I would still love her for eternity. It's Emmett's words that ring in my head then, reminding me that no matter how true those vows would be for me, they wouldn't be for her.

_Do you think I would do Rose any favours even now, if I didn't treat her the way I do? Like a woman and not a fragile artifact meant to be put on a pedestal and admired, but never touched?_

Eventually all that we couldn't have would poison everything we could. Useless words and vows are not what she needs from me now anyway.

I can see the panic trying to take hold of her. Very gently I pull her closer to me, scooting my body to the edge of the ottoman so that I can wrap my arms around her trembling body. She comes to me eagerly and without restraint, rising onto her knees in the chair and throwing her arms around my neck.

Perfect. The feel of her, the smell of her, her innocent beautiful reaction, all of it perfect, and I smile in instant relief. To prove my growing theory I slide my hands up and down her back and she nestles further into the embrace. Feather light and cautious I kiss the side of her neck, her jaw, the tender pale skin of her tear stained cheek, slowly marking a path to her mouth. Once there I nuzzle her lips softly with my own, murmuring endearments and love words before kissing her carefully but thoroughly. She never once pulls away. Her fears are ungrounded. Whispering her name in soft praise for her courage I can only pray that my own fears will be just as equally ungrounded. If ever a moment existed where I needed to be worthy of her trust it's now. _Please God, don't let me fail her._

**Bella's POV**

Edward's arms are exactly what I need. All the sadness, all the aching pain both physical and mental eases in his embrace. Still present, but suddenly and wonderfully tolerable. For the first time in weeks I start to feel hopeful. Even better than that is the newfound belief I have in him and his commitment to me. I still don't know what our future holds. I still can't say everything is going to be fine. But at least I can breathe. At least now the crush of fear that he'll leave is gone. Or worse that he'll stay, resenting me, blaming me for everything that has happened, and forcing me to make the choice to leave.

I still don't know however, if what I'm hoping is possible, and that hurts. I won't let him marry me if I don't know. I won't condemn him to a life without a real wife, in every sense of the word. I might be a virgin, I might even be naive, but I know enough about love and marriage to know that it wouldn't be fair to him if I can't get over what's happened. Living with the Cullens has taught me that. Especially in the last few weeks. All their quiet glances, the soft touches, the disappearing acts into bedrooms where open doors are suddenly tightly closed. The soft sounds that carry even in a house as large as this one. Telling me that they're finding comfort from the constant stress that lingers in the aftermath of Jacob's and the Packs betrayals. I can't ask Edward to give that up. Even if he doesn't yet realize what exactly he'd be sacrificing, my human hormones do.

Edward's mouth finds mine, and all those thoughts spin dizzily away in the sensation and taste of him.

"Bella," he murmurs against my mouth somehow making my name sound like high praise. He whispers that he loves me, needs me, a dozen inconsequential nonsense things that somehow are exactly everything I need to hear.

When he pulls back so I can breathe I can taste my own tears on my tongue. He brushes them away gently and leans his forehead against mine. The sweetness of his breath is nearly as dizzying as his kisses.

"What if I can't, Edward?" I ask again, helplessly. Will he leave me then? Will I leave him? Can I leave him?

"Tell me what happened today at Charlie's, Bella. What happened to set the panic attack off?"

The question confuses me, and I shake my head. "Just tell me." His hands create the softest patterns on my back, soothing me into compliance.

"I'm not sure exactly. Carlisle was changing Charlie's bandages. The surgery incisions are so...raw. I guess it was hard to see them. Then I started thinking about last night and everything you would have seen in my mind. It came on so fast."

"And then?" He pulls back a bit to see my face, smiling softly in encouragement.

I shrug, frustrated. I don't want to talk about this now, but I sense he isn't going to let this go anymore than he's let anything else go today. "Then I started to fight it off and Aunt Julie touched my back. You know I hate that, I can't help it..." I sound overly defensive and he hushes me gently.

"It's okay. You don't need to explain that, I understand. But, love? Where are my hands right now?"

I frown at this inane question. "On my back... Oh."

He smiles. "Yes, oh. I also just kissed your neck." He reiterates his point by doing so again. "And your jaw." The cool touch of his mouth makes me shiver. "And," he breathes, a second before he kisses me again. "Your mouth." His tongue skims over my bottom lip creating a new more powerful shiver. Pulling back he studies my face for a long moment. "Bella, you never flinch when I touch you, not even when I touch your back, an action that done by anyone else frightens you terribly. I am not saying we won't have to be careful. I'm not saying you have nothing to fear. What I am saying is that for you and I there is no such thing as 'can't'." Gently he brushes his lips back and forth over mine once more. I feel nothing but pleasure at his touch. No panic, no fear beyond a slight nervous edge that is completely tolerable.

His arms around me are cold, reminding me that I'm not exactly feeling warm myself. I try to hide the shivering by pressing closer to him. He senses it anyway, like I'd known he would.

He pulls back again and something about his expression surprises me. He looks suddenly intent and determined. Even more determined than he's been before. "Are you cold?"

The question doesn't match the expression, but I nod anyway. There really is no point in denying it. My teeth are going to start chattering next and give me away.

The determined look grows. "Do you trust me?"

Licking my lips nervously I nod again.

Careful of the still sore spots on my body he seems to have memorized he pulls me closer until I'm on my knees at the edge of the chair. Then he lifts me onto his lap. "Wrap your legs around my waist, love."

When I comply he rises to his feet and carries me to the bathroom, kissing me slowly the entire way. By the time he sets me down on the counter I'm too breathless to care about the absence of the mirror behind me. Moving away, he starts the water in his huge walk in shower, adjusting the temperature carefully.

"What are you doing?" I ask inanely. It is rather obvious after all.

"You're cold," he replies with a small smile. "I thought a hot shower might warm you up." He moves back to me and cups my face in his cold large hands. "Bella? Will you let me do something for you?"

"What?" There is no power or volume to my voice, not when he's looking at me like he is. It is a wonder I can even breathe at all.

One of his hand moves down to my neck, and he leans down to brush a soft kiss over my cheek and on the corner of my mouth. "Will you let me take care of you, love?" He draws back just enough to see my face, to no doubt judge my reaction. So far I'm turning to mush. Melting under what I now see as Edward in full on seduction mode.

"Will you let me help you shower?"


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27 Say When

**Bella's POV**

It takes me a minute to understand what he's truly offering. My injuries have made it difficult to do even the simplest of things, like washing my own hair and getting dressed. Or undressed. In a house with three women it hasn't been an issue. Time has allowed my body to heal to a certain extent. If I was left to my own devices I could manage okay on my own. I'd done just that only last night.

He isn't offering out of necessity.

With incredible tenderness he brushes a stray hair off my face, speaking as if he's read my mind. "Slowly, love. I want to take this slowly for you." Cool fingers caress my hot cheek and down a gentle path to my neck. His thumb rests against my pulse and he frowns. "Your heart is racing. Don't be frightened. I will never hurt you, Bella."

"I know that," I whisper breathlessly, and it's true.

He stares hard into my eyes like he's trying to make sure I'm telling the truth. "You've been through so much. I only want to care for you. Show you tenderness, gentleness. I want you to know that you're safe. That you're loved, cherished." His lips brush over mine and he inhales deeply, drinking in my scent. "Because you are all of those things, love. All of those and so much more." When he draws back his fingers move to the top button of my blouse, carefully freeing it from the small loop that holds it secure. "That's all I want for now. Nothing else, sweetheart. Just that. Don't be afraid."

"I'm not." Just as true. My heart is racing, but all I want is this. To be in his arms, to have him finally hold me close with nothing between us.

"I love you."

I feel the second button let go, then the third, the fourth. I stop counting. "I love you too."

Please let me be enough. Beautiful enough, strong enough. Just...enough...

"You're beautiful, Bella." My hands had grabbed onto his, stopping him from pulling the now loose fabric open. I search his eyes wondering if he's reading my mind, praying that he hasn't. It's enough to be this vulnerable without that.

"I'm not, Edward. I'm still covered in bruises." Tears blur my vision. He knows some of them, more than I'd want him to, but he hasn't seen them all. I know his perfect vampire vision will be able to pick up even the ones that have faded to nearly nothing. Ones that show perfectly all the places Jacob had touched me that he hasn't.

"Show me."

He could have told me it didn't matter. I wouldn't have believed him. He could have said I was beautiful anyway. It might have been true, in his eyes anyway, but he knows that isn't the point. So he asks me to be brave instead, and he lets me choose. The way Jacob hadn't.

I let go of his hands, and close my eyes. My heart stutters once when I feel the fabric slide away from my shoulders and down my arms, again when he releases the front clasp of my bra, the snap on my jeans.

He's so gentle I barely feel any of it. Even when he sets me on my feet. Like whispers the clothes disappear, and I only have to open my eyes once. When he lifts my foot to slide off my socks I look down just long enough to balance my weight with my hands on his shoulders. I close them again when he slides the panties from my hips.

The first tremor hits me then, a tiny spike of fear and desire and need that takes my breath away. Before I even get it back the delicious heat of the shower spills down my naked skin. I open my eyes finally at the sound of the shower door closing. If I had been alone I wouldn't have been surprised. This has to be testing Edward in ways I can't imagine, but he's there, right in front of me. Naked, gloriously beautiful and perfect, just like I'd always known he'd be.

"Is the water warm enough, love?" His eyes don't move from my face, even when I can't say the same for mine. Not even the little darts of fear and self consciousness are going to keep me from looking. When my eyes find their way back to his he smiles slowly, mischievously, and my heart nearly stops. Whatever little insecurity I'd felt before vanishes to be replaced by a new one, so powerful it nearly makes me run. His smile falls away instantly as he sighs.

"Don't Bella." My hands had come up to cover myself and he takes them in his own, drawing them down, though he still doesn't look away from my face. "Don't cover yourself. Let me see you."

His fingers leave mine, watching me closely while he trails them over my cheekbones, down my jaw, finally stopping just above my left breast. Without looking I know his fingers are resting at the very edge of a faint bruise, gone yellow and brown against my pale white skin. A bruise that spreads over my breast, curling around the side and beneath, stretching out until it blends in with the more dramatic darker ones that still smatter my entire side. Even after a month if you look closely you can still see the faint outline of several finger marks, perfectly imprinted and mocking.

He is the sublime pristine David, and I am broken, marked and inferior. Tears a thousand times hotter than the water and steam around us fall out of my eyes. I can't stop them. Not at all.

Edward closes his own eyes. Like my pain is too much for him to bear. "You have no idea how much I hate that this is what is in your mind." When he opens them again his expression is impossibly sad. So sad it makes me forget my own pain and find the courage to reach up and guide his hand down past its resting point.

When his cold touch encircles and covers the bruise completely, I somehow manage to speak out of a dry tight throat. "Then take it away, Edward. Make me forget."

**Edward's POV**

Make her forget. How I wish with every fibre of my dormant being that I could. Like one of those fantasy romance novel vampires that have the ability to thrall their human victims and wipe their memories clean. I am no more capable of that than I am of inflicting a bite that endows sensual pleasure instead of scalding pain.

I cannot make her forget. Not even immortality can grant that. Perhaps though, I can soften the memory, bury it in pleasure and heal some of her wounds.

I can feel her heart throbbing beneath my palm. The warm richness of her soft flesh pulsating with each heavy beat, pressing her delicate little nipple against my skin. The feeling is beyond belief, touching and awakening things inside of me I'd buried nearly a century ago. Groaning her name, I make sure to keep my gaze intent on hers. My hand cups the weight of her, a perfect swell just filling my palm, and I let my thumb sweep in towards her slightly pebbled nipple.

"Bella, you are so beautiful." She doesn't contradict me this time as I allow the full force of my mind to lull her into complacency. I will not use this power of mine long. Whatever happens tonight will not be something I dazzle from her. I'm only seeking to comfort her away from her unnecessary fears over her appearance.

Her nipple tightens further against my thumb making me ache. I've wanted her from the moment I laid eyes on her. Beneath the blood lust that had nearly taken her life had been this feeling. This overpowering need for her body, for her love. A need I now know saved her life, and mine, that first day we'd met.

Her lips part in pleasure when I gently trace my fingertip over the edges of the bruise. Feather light and careful I stroke every inch until every trace has been covered. The ball of ice in my gut churns anew, though it exists separate now from a growing heat that doesn't normally reside in my body. I relish the feeling of heat and ignore the cold ball, lowering my head to kiss what my fingers have mapped.

A small surprised gasp escapes her as my mouth moves over her skin. When I reach her nipple the urge to suckle her is dangerously powerful. To taste her would be the sweetest thing, but she reminds me of the danger when her hands rise to tangle in my hair. The movement arches her back, pressing her perilously close to my razor sharp teeth, forcing me to clamp my lips shut quickly. I resist the urge to caution her. I want her to lose her inhibitions. I want her to trust me to keep her safe.

Anchoring my hand against her back gently, I brush my lips back and forth over her tight peak. God, the softness of her flesh is unbelievable. Satin pearled in a taut bud. Her breathing becomes less even, and my tongue finding the tip makes her pant in a sweet rush. Wanting to arouse not overwhelm, I pull away, and trail kisses up to her mouth. She responds sweetly. Her hands, still fisted in my hair obey all my rules as I sip lightly at her lips, trace them with my tongue, dip inside her lush little mouth and taste her pure sweetness. She keeps her own tongue to herself, but strokes mine each time it touches hers. A small moan triggers a vibration that skates along my lips, over my teeth and straight to the core of my abdomen. Were it not for the vampiric control I am capable of exuding on my body I'd be nearly painfully erect.

Bella's body is softening, not yet blossoming into arousal, but warming to the touches and kisses I continue to avail upon her. I caress her back with extreme care over and over, drawing her gently but inexorably towards me until we are almost as close as two beings can be. Only being inside of her would bring us any closer.

I want very badly to be inside of her.

_Slowly_, I berate myself. This is not the direction I will allow my mind to take now. Her scent fills my nostrils, strong with the reminder that her body is nowhere near ready to accept mine. If it will be at all tonight there is still much to overcome.

She is scarred deeply and I need no more proof than the absence of her desire. Her natural responsiveness and my ease at embellishing it were things I had taken for granted for a very long time.

The never-ending repercussions of _his_ actions are daunting, stroking the icy churn of my anger. He has taken something infinitely precious away from me. Bella's human hormones have at times been the basis for so many anxieties, but never once would I have wished her desires to be nonexistent. In truth I'd relished every one of them, revelled in the knowledge that she'd wanted me, in some ways as badly as I wanted her. The absence of it now is deeply painful.

She'd never understood the appeal her body held for me, partly due to her own human insecurities, but mostly due to the fact that I'd worked hard to keep that secret from her. I hadn't wanted to give her anymore ammunition in her quest to break my control. Not when the weapons she had were already so adept at wearing me down. Only my very real fear that I could harm her ever was, or ever would be, strong enough to keep me steadfast. And at times even that had barely been enough.

As a vampire lust is an intense emotion, beyond the realm of her human understanding. Whether it is for blood or love, it consumes and feeds upon itself until we are nearly mad with an appetite that demands to be sated. My body feels things more intensely, is aware of subtle nuances in our mates that make us voracious and seemingly insatiable lovers. It also makes us highly skilled at giving the very same pleasure we take.

Bella's body will tell me what it wants before she even knows it herself. It is that preternatural sense I tune into now. That intent focus tamps down my anger and reminds me why I'm doing this. To make Bella believe in us again.

**Bella's POV**

Edward turns me gently until my back is to him. At some point before he'd brought us into the shower he'd place a clip in my hair to hold the heavy weight of it up on the crown of my head. It leaves the skin of my back bare and his hands, slippery with soap, begin to wash me. His cool touch is incredibly gentle.

A memory from the night of the attack spins in my head. Rosalie performing the exact same action, only hard, helping me to scrub away the stains of Jacob's betrayal. It was what I had needed at the time. Now this touch feels like the perfect counterpoint. A healing balm spread with his cool fingers and absorbed deeply. Like her, he traces the now faint outlines of damage over and over again until I begin to tremble.

Edward rinses the soap suds away, and his mouth once again replaces his hands. I'm reminded of being a little girl and having Renee or Charlie kiss some small scrape or bump to make it better. I'd always thought it was silly. Way too practical and grounded even as a small child to buy into the game, though I'd never told them. I was never so practical that I didn't want the comfort.

Now every brush of Edward's mouth feels nothing at all like a game. I feel it everywhere, spanning my entire body regardless of where the point of contact is. It's not sexual, and yet the warmth I begin to feel is strangely similar.

He doesn't miss one. He washes them all, rinses, then kisses and touches each one thoroughly. Like a ritual. Washing away the past, acknowledging my pain, all while lovingly leaving my skin tingling in sensation.

I blush but don't flinch when he caresses my hip, brushing his lips over the edges of a faded bruise on the left side of my bottom. Again when he kisses the insides of my thighs. Only at that moment do I feel the warmth blossom into something stronger when he lifts his eyes to mine. Edward is on his knees before me, his face so close to the space between my legs I can't help but whimper. He holds my gaze as he finishes with those marks and raises slightly to pause just over the small dark patch of curls that cover my most private place, his eyes still holding mine.

"Did he touch you here, love?" His question is soft spoken, though the tone is different than any I've heard from him before. Dark, deep and full of emotions I can't even begin to name.

My heart seems to stutter in my chest as his cool breath brushes skin that suddenly feels swollen and sensitive. I bite my lip, shaking my head to tell him no, waiting for him to move on. He doesn't. Instead his eyes grow dark again and a small growl ripples from his throat.

"Good." His expression is fierce, dark and possessive. It softens quickly and his hands curve gently around my hips holding me steady. Without breaking his gaze he brushes his mouth against me, holding me when I jerk in reaction.

Dumbfounded I watch as he does it again. "Edward," I pant, suddenly barely able to breathe. "I said he...didn't, he never..."

His second kiss is lower, closer to the place that used to throb for him. My knees buckle but he catches me easily, rising to his feet to anchor my body in his strong arms.

"He didn't, Edward...he...tried to...but he never, he just tore my..."

"I know," he whispers in my ear, cradling my head close to him while I shiver and weep like an idiot. "Shh, Bella. I know, love."

He scatters soft kisses down my cheek and throat, then back to my mouth. I cling to him hard, aching and needy. His kiss is sweet, deep and consuming, still careful but full of promise.

When he lets me up for air my head feels conflicted. "Why did you...?" The blush is hot and full blown making my face feel like it is on fire. Smiling gently he brushes a soothing finger over the flames.

"Because I wanted to, Bella." His thumb caresses my bottom lip. "Even when I know I need to be more careful with you than ever, I cannot help but want you badly."

Tiny darts of panic flicker down my spine. He's always so good at saying the right words. Telling me he wants me even as he pushes me away. I've always understood his reasons, but no matter how much I understood them I never could get past the knee jerk reaction that made me feel as though I wasn't enough. Right now with Jacob and what he did stronger than ever between us, his excuses are reinforced. And no matter what he says about wanting me, they are just words. Words his body isn't backing up.

At first the fact that he wasn't turned on in the least by me right now was comforting. I didn't know if I was ready for any of this, I still don't, but not knowing doesn't keep me from wondering why, at least physically, he isn't.

Unable to hide anything from him I'm not surprised when he senses my fears. His hands cup my face. "Bella, I've frightened you. I'm sorry, love."

I shake my head. "No, it isn't that."

"Then what is it. I felt your fear, Bella. I can sense it, remember?"

"It's just...Edward, you say that you want me, but you don't, not really." He looks confused, and it's all I can do not to look away from his beautiful face.

"You don't believe me?"

Sniffling, blushing, hopelessly inadequate in every way I shake my head and try to look away. Which of course he won't allow.

"Tell me why, please."

"Edward," I roll my eyes and huff slightly, hating that this is so awkward. "It's kind of obvious. I know that certain things need to be happening with you that aren't."

He arches a perfect eyebrow at me as he strokes those long fingers of his over the heat of my face. "It's okay," I whisper, suddenly realizing that my pointing out the obvious isn't very tactful. "I know it isn't your fault, I don't look very...pretty or sexy or whatever right now." Forcing a small laugh I reach up and grab his hands, pulling them down between us and taking a step back. "Bruises aren't very attractive and I know I'm no Rosalie, or...Tanya..."

Edward's lips compress into a tight line and his nostrils flare in irritation. I'm holding his hands tightly to keep him from touching me, though I might as well have saved the effort. He tugs one of them away lightening fast, and with an ease that reminds me just how strong he truly is, places it over my mouth.

"Bella, I am not a man."

Staring at him blankly I'm unable to respond. All I can do is stare and hope he's going to clarify.

Seeing my confusion he sighs and lowers his hand, pressing one finger beneath my chin to keep my face tilted up towards his. "I think you forget that sometimes, love." His smile is gentle and understanding. "I suppose I like that you forget that sometimes, but it isn't something you should overlook now. I'm a vampire, Bella. I control my body completely in every way. It reacts as, and only how, I ask it to."

"You mean...?" I bite my lip, uncertain of exactly what it is I think he means.

"I mean," he interrupts with a small laugh when my eyes dart down against my will. He taps my chin gently to get my attention. "I want you very much, Bella. But I can, and am, controlling the physical reaction to that desire." His expression grows serious and his voice softens again. "I meant what I said, love. Nothing will happen between us that you do not want. I will not frighten you or have you feel like you need to do something for me that you are not ready for."

**Edward's POV**

Softening the tone of my voice I try harder to soothe her fears, and to inject a seductive note to the words. "I've kept my body under tight control with you, Bella only because I felt it was necessary. Not out of choice. Never doubt that it takes great effort to do so, love. My being able to control an erection doesn't mean the hunger for you is absent. If you and I can be successful at lovemaking, I won't have any reason to control the natural reactions I have. Nor would I want to. So trust me, my little siren. Should you call I will respond. I am yours to control, Bella. Whenever you want me." I repeat that word, emphasizing it so she understands completely what I mean."Whenever."

She hears the new resolve in my tone but studies my face, no doubt needing to see it as well. I hide nothing in my expression. Her heart thumps with a rapid beat that belies her mixed emotions. Shadows bruise the tender skin beneath her red rimmed eyes, reminding me of how long this day has been for her. She slides her arms around my waist and rises on tiptoe to kiss my mouth. I give her all I can in that kiss, hating the need to be careful and yet appreciating it all the same. Her human fragility is a blessing in so many ways now. I need to be careful with her, gentle with her delicate body, gentle with her tender emotions, ever mindful of what she has been through. I find I need the tenderness just as much as she does.

A small tremor vibrates her tiny body against mine. Her nipples tighten against my chest and she moans softly in my mouth. Pulling back she takes a shaky breath. "I don't know if I'm ready yet, Edward." She worries her lip, watching my face. "I want to be ready," she whispers longingly. I can sense the growing passion in her. Feel it in the steady yet too fast thrum of her pulse, taste it in her kiss and smell it on her skin.

Her choice, I remind myself. "You don't need to know yet, Bella. Slowly remember, love?"

She nods tucking her head into my shoulder, pressing close enough that I can feel every delectable inch of her skin and body against mine. A million different sensations. Thankfully my preternatural senses can detect them all, savour them all. From the soft kiss of the downy hair on the swell of her sex to the more subtle textures of creamy skin that vary in thickness over different areas of her body. The flex of muscle, the delicate stretch of tendon, right down to the impossibly erotic dip of her pelvis and the sweet curve of her breasts.

Her body grows heavier, more relaxed against mine, and her heart rate slows. I kiss her temple, lower my mouth to her ear keeping my arms secure but careful around her waist, mindful of her still healing ribs. "Shall we get out now, love? You're beginning to prune."

She smiles against my skin at the gentle teasing. "I don't care. I like it here, I could stay forever."

I smile as well. "I'm afraid even the extra large capacity hot water tank we have won't hold out forever." Even as I speak I can feel the water already needs adjusting, signalling the beginning of the end to the current supply. I turn it off chuckling at her little moan of dissent. "Come on; let's get you out of here and into bed. You've had a very long day and very little sleep. You have to be exhausted."

She pouts slightly as I wrap her in a thick towel before securing one around my own waist as well. "I don't want to sleep. If I go to sleep now I'll probably sleep until morning." She follows the statement with a yawn which she buries in the edges of the towel. I chuckle and guide her into the bedroom, grateful that I'd thought to turn up the heat earlier so she wouldn't get chilled.

"Then you should sleep till morning, love." I pull back the covers on the bed. It's still raining and the afternoon is slipping into evening, masking the room in comforting shadows. Moving to the dresser I secure clothing I know she prefers to sleep in. A simple black cotton tank top and matching black panties. The fact that such a color against her flawless ivory skin makes my entire body spark has me more grateful than ever for the ability I have to hide my lust. I debate my own state of undress while she dresses. Getting completely clothed seems like the smartest move now, but I'm loathing the thought of breaking our newfound intimacy. And in truth I'd like very much to hold her while she sleeps with as little as possible between us. At least until the warmth the hot shower has imparted on my skin dissipates.

Settling for only underwear I turn back to Bella and smile when I see she's done the same, discarding the tank top in favour of only the panties. She blushes softly, pink roses and porcelain cream. She takes my unneeded breath away. The perfect combination of innocent and seductive.

"Will you hold me until I fall asleep, Edward?" I don't answer, merely tuck her in and lay down beside her, drawing her close. Our lips meet as we curve ourselves into one another. Despite the shower my skin is still nowhere near as warm as hers. I don't lament the fact. I know that for whatever reason the coolness of my touch has always been something Bella has never minded. In fact she seems to enjoy it immensely, often sacrificing her own warmth to be near it.

Though I could kiss her forever I really do want her to sleep. I can feel her fatigue dragging on her; taste her body's need for rest in the very air around her. Turning her carefully, I spoon my body to her back and nestle her bottom into the cradle of my hips. I need to grit my teeth at the erotic feel of that action. She wiggles against me and my jaw nearly snaps with the need to press back. When she settles it is almost all I can do not to sigh with relief. Now that I've made my decision to allow her to decide when we will make love for the first time, I find it is harder than I thought to relinquish the control. All my instincts urge me to claim fully what is mine. Her.

I force that instinct down, burying it with all the other emotions I have learned to control, and wait for Bella to fall asleep. She doesn't.

She's still for a long time, her breathing relaxed and even, though not yet the deep rhythm she adopts during her rest. I hum her lullaby softly, hoping to soothe her. She only grows more restless, shifting her legs beneath the blankets and alternating between snuggling closer and moving away.

"Am I making you uncomfortable, Bella?" I ask when yet another restless toss pulls her away from me. Her skin feels warm when I place it on her waist telling me my temperature hasn't yet affected hers.

Settling back onto her side she huffs wearily, and looks back at me over her shoulder. She places a restraining hand on my hip to keep me from moving. "No. It isn't you, it's me." Resting my weight on my arm I prop myself up so I can see her better and move my hand from her waist to her cheek, brushing it lightly with my knuckles. "I can't sleep. I can't seem to shut my mind off, you know?"

I have very little retained memory of sleep. My human life is a dull blur of many things but one of the foggiest has to be any of the time I spent in slumber. I do not remember dreaming or crawling into bed at night happy to seek my rest as I have seen Bella and many other humans do as well. Perhaps a blessing considering I will never again know such a respite. The one thing I do remember though is for a human shutting off the mind is often a necessary inducement to sleep.

"I just feel so..." Lost for a perfect descriptive she shrugs. Tense would be the word she seeks. I can feel it radiating off her in waves. "I'm so tired," she whispers sadly, rubbing her eyes like a small girl. Her body shifts away from mine as she goes to rise from the bed. My hand restrains her gently, tucking her back against my body. The current of an idea swims through my mind, a way to ease her tension and take another step in our growing intimacy. It will require an intense amount of restraint on my part, one I'm not entirely certain I am capable of. In spite of that very real fear I am filled with a sudden striking desire. A desire to give us both a small taste of what we've longed for.

**Bella's POV**

I'm beyond tired, maybe that is why I can't sleep. I try to get up but Edward stops me, pulling me back against him. I'm too tired to really complain and it's not like having him hold me is a bad thing.

His breath is cool, sweet and calming as it ghosts over my shoulder. A perfect counterpoint to the soft kiss he places there. His lips slip over my neck and I turn my head farther so that our mouths can meet. Kissing Edward is even better than just lying with him. And oh. He knows how to kiss. There is a new edge to it now, something more desperate and hungry than any other kiss we've shared. It creates a warm pulsing coil in my stomach. When his tongue slides like cool silk into my mouth I can't help the greedy little whimpering noise I make. My mind goes so quiet, so peaceful. Finally.

"Bella," he murmurs against my lips. "Love, will you let me try something?"

I'm so lost in his sweet breath I barely even register what he's asking, nodding before I've even understood the question. As though he senses this he pulls back, his eyes searching mine. The darkness in them shocks me. Different from his thirst but no less startling.

"I want to help you relax, help you to sleep." I nod again even though I have no idea how he plans to do what feels like the impossible. When it occurs to me that he might mean some kind of medication I change my nod to a no.

"I don't want to take anything, Edward. I hate that, it just makes me feel drugged and I..." His finger presses to my lips shushing me.

"No, not pills." Again his eyes bore into mine, searching. "I'd like to touch you, love you a little. Would you let me do that?"

My heart instantly begins to pound as I realize what he's offering. A month ago I would have nearly had a heart attack at an offer like that. I would have wondered who was asking because it never would have been my Edward. "You don't have to do that," I whisper around vocal chords that feel nearly paralyzed.

His lips brush mine again, and he groans softly. "I know I don't have to," he murmurs. "But, Bella? I'd very much like to." I must make some noise that tells him I'm in disbelief, though in truth my mind feels like I might actually have fallen asleep after all and now I'm dreaming. "I won't hurt you, love. I promise I will be so careful, so gentle. I only want to love you. Let me, Bella. Let me show you in some small way that I'm worthy of you."

"Edward you are..." He kisses me into silence then shakes his head.

"Poor choice of words. Allow me to rephrase that please." Adjusting our bodies just enough that my weight presses back against him he shifts the blankets to expose my upper half. "You are so beautiful. Let me touch you; let me show you that you don't ever have to fear my touch. It's what you're worried about isn't it? That you won't be able to respond to me the way you used to?"

Tears burn behind my eyes at his perfect verbalization of my fears, wanting out, but I've cried enough. I blink quickly and nod, not trusting my voice to work right.

"We were made for each other, Bella. You and I, against all odds. Nothing that has happened can take that away from us if we don't let it."

"What if...?"

"There is no what if. Trust me in this. Trust me to take care of you, Bella. Let me take care of you."

Even as he's speaking his hands are roaming my body. Lightly ghosting across my collarbones, down my side to my stomach, my hip, never quite touching any of the places that begin to ache to feel him. My choice, just like he promised. "Can I touch you too?"

He chuckles lightly, his cool mouth nuzzling my chin, the sensitive skin below it. "Not this time, love. Slowly, remember."

"But that seems...selfish," I blush and stammer, almost losing the ability to object at all when his hand brushes against the side of my breast. He chuckles again.

"Selfish? I hardly think so. Do you have any idea what a gift it would be to me to be able to touch you fully? To be able to feel you respond to me? To know I'm giving you pleasure?"

When his fingers tease over my nipple I can't breathe.

"Breathe, Bella. Breathe for me and let me touch you, let me make you feel good, love. Tell me yes."

**Edward's POV**

I'm being unfair. Using her gently rising arousal to get my way. But I'm convinced I'm doing the right thing. Her fears about her responsiveness run deeper than I'd realized, and to let her wallow in that might allow it to become a self fulfilling prophecy. Like earlier I will need to coax her away from those fears and push her harder for both of us.

Her skin is like satin beneath my fingertips, and I want very much to explore her secret places. I'm yearning to hear her soft cries of pleasure, to learn just how vocal my sweet love will be in her pleasure. No one is here; it is only her and I. She will need to hide nothing from me.

"Say yes," I whisper again, trailing the tip of my tongue over her pulse point. The blood that runs through her body is now nothing more than the perfume that increases my desires. Not blood lust, just physical need, pure and simple. Now if I can only control my strength. In this task at least I'm confident. As long as I do not allow her to participate I can concentrate on her and her alone. I can do this. For her.

Her body is already responding in a yes. But I need her mouth to say the words. Pausing in the caress that had made her breathless I cradle her breast in my palm. Her tiny peak is rigid and aching for more attention, but I deny her. I'm not surprised the denial is just as painful for me. "Say yes," I coax one last time and she moans softly.

"Yes."

Feeling as though I've been given a gift too great to comprehend yet, I groan her name in husky approval and steal her lips. Her kiss is broken with her panting breaths and a thousand times better for it. Each exhalation sweetened with her essence. She's quickly becoming more aroused as I deepen the kissing, tasting her full flavour in my mouth. All the emotion both good and bad of the last few hours has driven her to the edge, whether she knows it or not. Her body needs what I'm determined to give in a way that has gone beyond just sex. Beyond just physical.

My fingers finally give her delicate nipple a soft pull. Her immediate breathy gasp rewards me, the tiny shudder that ripples her body in a sensual wave the icing on the cake. I coax tremulous little moans from her throat with exploratory touches, learning the dips and curves and hills of each pretty breast until her nipples are swollen at the tips and lusciously peaked.

Carefully, and with exaggerated slowness I move one hand down her body, all the while placing soft kisses on her mouth and then her neck. She loves it when I nuzzle her neck, almost like a mockery to my nature. She has never been frightened by that caress and I give it liberally now, teasing her pulse point with my tongue until she whimpers.

The skin of her abdomen is petal soft, each dip and concave fascinating to the oversensitive pads of my fingers. I can feel her heat, the shallow rise and fall of her quickening breath, the coil and jump of each sinuous muscle. Her hips are so lovely, the angles pleasing in every way, framing the object of my current direction. I tease the skin above her panties, tracing the soft cotton band that hugs her tiny curves. Her muscles contract, her hips rising almost of their own volition.

"Edward..." she pants as I hesitate just above the very heart of her heat, fingertips poised to delve beneath that soft fabric band.

"May I, Bella?" I ask, already knowing the answer but wanting her to be an active participant in her own pleasure.

"Oh, yes. Edward, please."

She doesn't need to beg. The words barely pass her lips and my fingers are already underneath, sliding gently through those silken curls and down into the heat below. I'm only barely prepared for how good she feels.

Hot. Lord, she's so hot. Like liquid fire against my cold hand. So sweet, already moist, plump folds beginning to swell. I dip my fingers into that velvet warmth, coating them in the growing wetness I tempt from her body.

She's motionless against me, suddenly shy, though her breathing continues to be uneven and her rapid pulse tells me she's anything but unaffected.

Groaning her name in approval I slide my fingers up, seeking the tiny nub nestled so beautifully in its silky cradle. I've never touched a woman this way before. Never wanted to touch a woman this way before. Now the power, the pure eroticism of it is nearly my undoing. Wanting so badly to let her know how much she's loved and wanted, I let the tight reins of my body loose and surge to life. Aching and tumescent and nearly on fire as she begins to moan loudly.

"Yes, love," I growl in approval as her desire begins to outweigh her fears. She presses back against me, arching her spine and pushing her succulent little bottom into my cold, hard erection. Her heat is radiating stronger than ever from her body, enveloping me in an embrace of warmth and life. The scent of her arousal grows when she feels mine. No fear, only growing mounting pleasure.

"Don't stop, Edward, oh, please, don't stop." Her words are breathless pants making me realize I've grown distracted by the pleasure that courses over me with each little swivel of her hips. Gritting my teeth and biting down on my tongue balances the overwhelming pleasure with a bite of pain, grounding me. My fingers had been teasing her flesh, attempting to coax that tiny bud to swell and firm beneath my ministrations. But the distraction of allowing my erection free rein had caused me to neglect her. Redoubling my efforts I'm rewarded by her instant cry. She's climbing to the peak, exactly and as perfectly as I could have hoped. My own needs are suddenly easy to ignore in the growing fascination of Bella's responses.

She trembles once, twice and then in a constant rhythm, each tremor more powerful than the last. Her body quickens, blood racing, heart nearly thrumming as it speeds up, her heat growing. She is soaking wet now, the impossibly soft flesh of her clitoris swelled to a sweet firm nub beneath my fingers. I move them faster, then faster still, growling in approval as her soft cries get louder. I'd always fantasized that my lovely demure quiet girl would be vocal in intimacy. The reality is much better than the fantasy.

She's hovering on the edge, perhaps frightened by what is happening. I growl her name, not bothering to hide the unearthly quality that makes my tone animalistic. She loves me, in every way, and in an epiphany I realize she will not be frightened by my true nature. The knowledge is nearly as erotic as the feel of her flesh. When she turns her head I take her mouth, recklessly mimicking the act of love as I stroke her faster, finding where she is most sensitive, learning the perfect rhythm to make her pant and writhe against me.

She's right there. I can taste it on her tongue. "Yes, my love. Let me feel you let go."

"Edward." There is a desperate almost fearful edge to the way she says my name, but I don't back down. She needs to climax. I need her to climax.

"Don't fight it, sweetheart. Just let go, I'm right here, I have you, Bella. Let go, angel."

A final surge of tension breaks and she shatters beautifully. My mind calls upon decades of attained knowledge to keep her in her bliss as long as her body is capable. Slowly, oh so slowly I bring her back down, taking my caresses from demanding to soothing. Luring each last sweet shudder from her in soft waves, sipping the softer cries from her damp mouth until she's spent and limp against me.

She is the greatest gift of my existence. One I will never, ever relinquish.

I reach for the covers and draw them back over us. She's nearly asleep already, her fragile human body desperately in need of rest.

"Sleep now, love. I have you. I won't let you go. I won't ever let you go."


	28. Chapter 28

A/N **WARNING** - This chapter is fully earning the Mature rating of the story. In other words, lemons ahead readers! If you don't like that kind of thing feel free to skip this chapter and join in again in the next one.

* * *

Chapter 28 Ready When You Are

_*I draw you close to me, you woman. _

_I cannot let you go, I would do you good. _

_I am for you, and you are for me,_

_not only for our own sake, but for others' sakes. _

_Enveloped in you sleep greater heroes and bards._

_They refuse to awake at the touch of any man but me." *_

**Edward's POV**

The clock moves slowly forward, the red illuminated numbers the only pale glow in the ever darkening bedroom. I sit, content to adopt the unnatural stillness that marks me as the creature I am, comfortable in the darkness the way I never will be in the light.

The rain continues to fall, a soft accompaniment to the perfect sounds of Bella's breathing and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. She sleeps peacefully. Blanketed with exhaustion and lulled by the pleasure I'd granted her body. Her rest is deep, untouched as of yet by the nightmares that have plagued her these last weeks.

Not wanting her to be frightened waking to darkness I move slowly from my chair and light several candles around the room, bathing it in a subtle glow of warmth. The black wax vanishes in the shadows making the flickering flames appear to float disembodied in the air. A subtle odour wafts gently from each one. Spicy in its undertones, it complements the floral pureness of Bella's scent permeating the room.

A cd sits poised in my stereo, awaiting the mere push of a button that will fill the room with music I'd chosen months ago. A tray filled with fresh cut fruit, delicately thin crackers and soft curls of cheese sits by the bedside table. Beside it is a glass of ice water, tiny droplets of condensation on the outer surface catching the refractions of the newly lit candles. Miniature cascading jewels that ring the bottom of the glass with iridescence. Selections made with utter care to tempt her lagging appetite. An offering of solicitude and love. A declaration that she is, and always will be, taken care of in every way. Her every need met. Everything is as perfect as I can make it.

Yet all of that perfection pales in comparison to her, and as I watch her sleep I'm eased by the hypnotic rhythm of her breathing. A soft flush of colour has remained on her skin, a glow of warmth and satiety mingling with the need still buried beneath the surface. Her hair spills around her face, curling across the pillows in a riot of burnt mahogany silk. The sheets are a delicate golden compliment to the ivory bisque of her flawless skin. They mold her body, revealing the delicate and alluring curves beneath. One tiny foot escapes their confinement, the perfect arch so impossibly elegant it makes my throat tight in a pure male reaction of adoration. She is an angel, smoldering in fragile sensuality. Perfect heat, perfect life. Perfect.

She stirs as though she feels the heat of my gaze, which no doubt she does. The small link we've begun to forge with the taste of our intimacy is growing even as she sleeps. Strengthening with every breath. Her human mind does not understand what we've begun, but her body needs no understanding. Even now while she remains unconscious, she angles herself in precise harmony with my position, displaying her vulnerability and her trust. The unique signature of her scent is stronger than ever, torching my tight throat in pleasurable flame and calling to elements of my nature I've suppressed for a century.

There no longer is a choice of what will happen between us this night. Perhaps there never was. The power of our bond is calling to us, demanding the final connection of our spirits, our bodies. Carlisle had warned me, as had Emmett and Jasper that this moment would happen. Vampires do not form fickle attachments. We forge connections as unbreakable as the eternity of time that encompasses our lifespan. Physical love cements that bond, attaches us to our mates in ways beyond even the love I currently hold for this perfect creature sleeping in my bed. When we make love for the first time the attachment between us will be complete in all ways. Allowing for a connection that will defy all logic and reason. I had thought that perhaps her human nature would prevent this from happening. That perhaps we would not bond fully in that way until I made her immortal.

I was wrong.

It has already begun.

I settle back into the chair, resting my elbows on the padded arms and linking my fingers together. I can still smell her on them. The pure essence of her arousal taunting my already inflamed senses. Reacting to my intensifying emotion she stirs, the softest sigh escaping her mouth while her eyelashes flutter against the tender skin beneath them. She arches her spine, just a slight hint of subtle movement that nevertheless conveys everything I feel and more. Her innocence, her need, her power. Her eyes open slowly, deep depths already alert and full of heat, so breathtakingly beautiful it is almost more than I can bear. They find mine unerringly and the need between us grows.

All our previous promises vanish, like a childhood pact that was made in innocence. We no longer reside in that place. What exists now is bittersweet. Bitter for the loss, sweet for the awakening of the new place we are now. This isn't the fairytales of happily ever after. This isn't white weddings and pristine virginity. It isn't what we'd hoped it would be. And yet there is no sadness in the realization. What exists now is a stripped bare reality and all its ambient emotions. It is raw, powerful, and stark. We will destroy all that lies between us. Set it on fire with the cleanest purest blaze we can create, and burn the darkness and sadness until all that is left is ash. When the wind blows it away and scatters it to the four corners of this earth, all that will be left is us. She and I scarred but complete.

My name on her lips is soft, yearning. I close my eyes for the briefest second. So brief she won't even have been able to detect it. One last moment to delve into my mind and question my ability, my strength, my will. To see if my control is where it needs to be, to ask myself if I can do this.

I can.

When my eyes open again she rises to her knees. The soft slide of the sheet falling to lie at her waist is like a whisper in my ear. Perfect skin turns illuminate with the soft kiss of candlelight, ethereal with the faint flicker of distant lightening that caresses her. Light finds her, even in darkness, as eager to love her as I am.

No. There no longer is a choice.

**Bella's POV**

I don't know how long I've slept. The room is dark, the large pane of glass covering the wall to ceiling window dark with nothing but the reflected images of the room. There is no moment of confusion, no sleepy drag trying to urge me not to wake. Just a relaxed alertness as though I hadn't really been asleep at all.

Edward is there, in a chair he's pulled up to the bedside, and for once I don't feel surprised at his presence. He is supposed to be there. I am supposed to be here. In his bed, in his room. This is where I am safe. Where I will always be safe.

I say his name and rise up on my knees, surprised at how my body feels. Loose, warm, like the knots have all melted away. Like the constriction and the chains have lightened. Even my ribs feel fine, my joints liquid and unlocked. A warm blush spreads over my cheeks as I remember why I feel the way I do. What we'd done. What he'd done for me.

He's there; suddenly close in front of me, one knee bracing his weight against the edge of the mattress as he cups his cool hand around my blush. Eyes, dark like midnight and yet incredibly gentle gaze into mine.

"I'd say good morning," he murmurs with a voice just as gentle as his eyes. "But it isn't quite that yet." His thumb strokes the skin on my jaw as he smiles.

"You could say good night," I say, my voice just as gentle as his. Images of our time in the shower, stronger ones of the way he'd touched me, loved me afterwards, flicker like the candles he's lit. My traitorous blush flares a little hotter as I remember begging him not to stop. His gentle look grows concerned as my reaction transmits itself directly against his palm.

"Is it a good night?" he asks. His perfect features become tighter with his worry.

I want to ask him the same question, but hesitate. "It is." I keep my eyes on his watching for signs of regret, waiting for him to take it back somehow, to remind me how foolish we were, how dangerous our actions had been. "For me anyway," I finish.

His smile returns with a new edge of heat that makes it the sexiest look he's ever given me. Cold, marble finished lips ghost over mine, barely there, though the reaction in my body couldn't have been any stronger if it had been a full on kiss. His lips move to my cheek, his smile lingering. Down my jaw and beneath, until his lips brush over the small dip where my neck and shoulder meet. My pulse begins to race as he draws in a slow deep breath, drinking in my scent, savouring it even though I know it's painful for him.

"It is a very good night for me as well, Bella." When he draws back I can't help but scrutinize his expression again, waiting for the 'but' that should follow his statement. It doesn't come. He arches one sculptured eyebrow. "Do you doubt me, love?"

Blushing again I duck my head, biting my tongue against the urge to ask him what he's done with my Edward. It reminds me of how much has changed. How much we've changed. Like before he refuses to let me look away, that granite finger finding its way beneath my chin and gently turning my face back to his. A soft chuckle sends a rush of his sweet scented breath straight to my head, creating a tight feeling in my core. One that bursts into a tiny flame at his next words.

"Maybe you need another demonstration of just how much I enjoyed our...earlier moments." His smile is a seductive smirk, every bit a dark angel. "I don't think you were paying proper attention, Bella." Goosebumps break out over every inch of my skin as his voice strokes me, dripping with velvet heat. "Then again," he whispers leaning close enough I can taste the sweet coolness of his exhale. "I rather liked your attention right where it was."

He leaves me speechless, breathless and trembling. His smile grows, obviously pleased with my reaction as he tilts his head to align his mouth with mine. The contact is electric and only my nervousness at not having brushed my teeth yet keeps me from falling completely under the sizzling current. Before I can ask for a human moment he seems to read my mind, drawing back without pressing the kiss like he normally does.

Reaching for a tray I hadn't noticed on the bedside table, he situates himself more comfortably and rests it on the bed between us. A perfect crisp linen napkin is removed to reveal a small glass bowl nearly overflowing with fresh cut fruit. Ripe strawberries, raspberries and blackberries. Juicy squares of melon and papaya, thin slices of pear and pineapple, all nestled together and resting in a larger bowl filled with ice to keep it cool. Tiny crackers and paper thin curls of various cheeses sit on a small plate at its side. For the first time in weeks my stomach actually doesn't revolt at the sight of food.

It's obvious he's taken considerable care to make everything, and I meet his gaze with small tears in my eyes. His expression is tender. "You need to eat, love," he admonishes softly. "Can I tempt you with something here?"

Without waiting for a reply he ignores the utensils, plucking one of the berries out of the bowl with his fingertips. It's bursting and red, and the scent it gives off is nearly mouth-watering. It's his expression however, that has me leaning forward to accept the fruit. He's watched me eat a hundred times, all with varying degrees of interest ranging from mild curiosity and a question about flavours, to ones of revulsion. Occasionally when I've been particularly enjoying something he's watched me with a certain degree of amusement and pleasure. He's never looked at me like this. As though his very existence is dependent upon every bite he can coax into my mouth. As though the very act of feeding me is nourishing him a thousand times more than it does me.

He watches me so intently he seems to know what I prefer from the tray before I do. The strawberries and raspberries disappear while the pear remains mostly untouched. More crackers are left on the plate than cheese, and when I can't possibly eat another bite I don't have to tell him. I sip the last of the water from the glass, sucking on a tiny sliver of ice until it numbs my mouth, while he places the tray back on the table. Tiny droplets of condensation drip unto the soft gold coloured sheet, turning the fabric where they land bronze. Neither of us seems to notice.

The entire time I'd eaten the electricity that exists between us had been thrumming to life. Now it crackles in the air, alive and frenzied. My heart hammers erratically as he takes the glass from my hand, placing it without turning away from me on the table with the tray. His eyes are black again, like deep pools on a moonless night. The candlelight ignites the copper in his hair and his skin is impossibly pale and beautiful. The sparks in the air touch my skin and set off a reaction deep inside my body that has me beginning to tremble.

I need him. It overrides everything, that need. My fears, my insecurity, even my desire to never again ask him for more than he wants to give. It's on the tip of my tongue to beg, and a sudden intense feeling of vulnerability has me reaching for the sheet, trying to tug it up over my exposed upper half. The need is too powerful. Laced with my fear and the hurt I cannot hide, it feels edged in sharpness, cutting me like a knife. I feel as though I'm about to disintegrate, vanishing into thin air if he doesn't touch me. Now.

Cold fingers grasp mine in restraint. His eyes grow impossibly darker.

**Edward's POV**

My voice comes out as a low growl though I wanted it to be a sensual whisper. "Don't. I've waited more than a lifetime to see you, Bella, don't cover yourself from me." She doesn't understand that what she feels is a perfect mirror representation of mine. Weaker in sensation perhaps because she is human, but nevertheless life altering and powerful. The connection is growing, screaming for the final act it needs to be complete. As inevitable as the tides and the waxing, waning moon that governs them.

_Her choice. It must be her choice._

Only that thought and that thought alone keep me from moving. The need inside of me is primal. The pull of the connection nearly uncontrollable save for one small bit of knowledge. She wants this, needs this, nearly as much as I. Only her fear will stop it from happening, and fear is something I will not allow to stand between us any longer. Not hers and certainly not mine.

I can taste her fear; feel the energy it exudes as she grapples with it in her mind. Jacob is in the shadows, quietly exultant, leering.

_Mine, you bastard fucking dog. She's mine._

The thought is violent, born on another low growl though my hands are infinitely gentle as I cup her face, rise onto my knees and pull her onto hers as well. She is my everything. I will destroy anything that tries to hurt her, including myself. My fingers tangle in the silky strands of her hair and wrap around the warm fragile roundness of her skull. Her breath comes quickly and I measure each pant to find the balance of fear and need within. Her body is responding, coming alive despite the fear, and I know, just as I've known all night, that I need to push her now. Push her past all of it. Not just her, but myself as well.

The electricity between us is alive and well, snapping in the air around our bodies, snarling like it is alive.

"I love you," I hiss fiercely against her mouth. My kiss is not nearly as careful as I would have normally made it. Her response is instant and hot, her arms going around my neck, her fingers tangling into my hair as well. I can taste all her emotions in her mouth. The bitter bite of her fear, the sweet lush flavour of her desire, and the potent explosion of need that perfectly matches and strokes the flavour of my own.

Her choice.

I find the strength to pull back, cupping the back of her head so she can't turn away from my studying gaze.

_Calm down_, I growl to myself in strict demand.

"Bella. Listen to me, love." She's shaking all over, her body coiled and tense, new tears in her eyes. This won't end well if we stop now. The need is too extreme, more than her fragile human body can withstand without pain. My only comfort is that at least I know now that I can soothe some of that ache. It won't be enough, not with the connection demanding to be forged, but it's something at least. It gives me the strength to stand strong. My own pain is nearly my undoing, but nothing will make me break my vow.

Her choice.

"I'm ready when you are," I murmur the words softly, using emotion to make my point.

She sobs, her eyes falling closed. "I promised you...we promised each other...we said we'd wait..." Another tremor harder than the rest coincides perfectly with her eyes opening. God she's so strong, so selfless. Another human would crumple under this weight, fracture beneath this need. "It was so important to you."

"_Was_." I emphasize the past tense of the word, hard. "Everything is different now, Bella. _We're_ different. I don't care about rules. They were never meant for you and me anyway, and I was a vain idiot to ever think I needed to protect your perfect soul." I crush my lips to hers again, harder than I've ever allowed myself, though it still remains gentle. Even when I think I'm not capable it has become instinct to protect her from my strength. The very knowledge of her fragility is embedded in the arms that hold her.

The darkness is threatening to win. I can feel it pulling at her as shadows full of _him_ drift over her skin. I can hear him breathing, mocking, his presence nearly real in the power of her fears. The connection between us suddenly begins to fray, and she clings to me with the feeling she doesn't understand. Tears spill slowly down her pale skin.

"I need you, Edward," she whispers. "I can't help it, I don't understand it. I just do...please. I'm sorry, I just can't... I need you to make it go away, I need you to hold me and not let go because I feel like I'm going to disappear." The frayed ends begin to knit at her words, and the shadows pull back.

_Mine,_ I growl under my breath. _You can't have her, you've never had her._

Sweeping the hair from her face, I kiss away her tears, gentling her. "Do you think it's any less for me, love? That I want you any less, need you any less?" I tug her hand from my hair and lay it over the place where my heart sits cold and silent. "If my heart could beat it would be racing twice as hard as yours, Bella. It would be trying to slam right out of my chest that's how much I need you, want you. It's almost more than I can stand." The growl that ripples my throat is impossible to contain as I let some of my control slip. "You're mine! Do you understand? Mine. I need that to be true, Bella. In every way." I can't help the small groan that leaves my mouth, no more than I can help the plea that comes after it. "Let me make it true."

She closes her eyes and some of the tension leaves her body. It isn't enough. "Look at me," I growl. She needs to know all of it. What we've begun. What we'll finish. In our fairytale I would have hidden it. I would have masked the connection that overtook me on our wedding night. Whatever pale ghost of it that she would have felt before the trauma of Jacob's assault had opened her mind, I would have allowed her to think it was normal. Her innocence would have made that easy. But this is not our fairytale, and she isn't feeling some pale ghost of our connection. She's being swamped by it, and if it is truly her choice she needs to understand what it means for us.

"Your choice, Bella. Only yours." For a moment she looks like she'll argue, but I don't allow her the chance. "Do you feel what this is between us? It's more than you thought it would be, isn't it?" She doesn't need to answer the questions, like always her face is an open book, my only saving grace from her silent mind. "Immortals bond for eternity, Bella. Physical love will cement that bond; forge it in steel until it is unbreakable in every way. Nothing save death will separate us, and even that will only be temporary. It doesn't seem to matter for us that you are still human. If we do this, it can never be undone. I will never let it be undone." The fierceness in my tone softens. Brushing a tender kiss upon her lips, I whisper my last words as gently as I can. "I will _never_ want it undone."

She shivers, though her eyes are steady when I draw back to search her face. Her nod is nearly imperceptible. "I'm already yours forever, Edward."

Not enough.

"Say the words then, Bella" I growl. "Let me know it is your choice. Say the words."

Jacob's presence is vanquished to the darkest farthest corner of the room. His guttural howl is silent, present only in my mind. She utters eight soft words and he's gone. Swallowed by the darkness that consumes him in my head, just as it does in reality.

A yielding blush blooms and warms the porcelain of her skin, one I will not let fade this time. Her damp lashes flutter while she arches her back slightly, bringing us closer. Soft brown eyes turn softer, imploring, melting with sadness, tears, desire. "Make love to me, Edward. Please, make love to me."

It's all I need. I brace my hand behind her back and lay her down on the bed beneath me. Another movement and the sheets that cover her are gone. One more and the last remnants of fabric between us vanish as well. I turn her gently on her side and hook my fingers behind her knee, drawing it up and over my hip until we touch with no space in between. Our lips meet in hunger and little restraint save for what I need to guarantee her safety. I swallow her needy little whimper greedily.

This will not be what I'd planned. Not methodical, or careful or textbook. All that lies between us is too raw for that, our need too great. The connection demanding to be completed controls nearly everything. And what little it does not is controlled by lust. It pours off of us in waves after so much denial. Our bodies are desperate.

She is all heat and light, the perfect contrast to the cold and darkness inside of me. Her heat consumes me, spreading in licking flames all over my hard skin until I can't help but groan. Tiny hands glide like satin over my chest. Fingernails scrape over the nape of my neck and tangle in my hair as she arches her body closer still, tugging my mouth tighter to hers. Nothing has ever felt so good, so right in my life. I was made to love her.

Her hands aren't content to stay in my hair. They roam my back and my sides, almost perfectly mimicking mine which do the same. Her perfect floral scent is all over, drenching me in her life, the purity of her essence, so that every unnecessary breath I take in is flavoured in her. My thirst burns and my teeth ache, but it is ridiculously easy to ignore it all. Especially in favour of the other delights that hit my senses. Like the sweet, tight little points of her breasts rubbing against my chest. The heated place between her legs, so velvet soft and plush against my thigh. I press it tightly against her, rubbing softly, rewarded with a little gasp that I lick from her lips while I do it again, harder.

The skin on her palms is hot and deliciously damp when she trails it down my chest and circles my nipples with the sharper ends of her little nails.

"Bella." It's a hiss of pleasure and an admonishment to be careful that she ignores. I don't care; don't even think to remind her of caution. Nothing in me feels as though I could hurt her. It's as if my hands have their own memory and they glide over her body gently, never breaking rhythm. Not even when her hands move lower.

I let the control of my body slip away so that when her hand enfolds me I'm more than ready for her. At least physically. Mentally nothing could have prepared me for the feel of her touching me this way.

_Nothing_. I let go of her then, pulling my hands away from her fragile flesh terrified that they will curl into pleasure induced fists, crushing her like a tender newly bloomed flower.

I don't know who moans louder. Her or me.

**Bella's POV**

The candles flicker like a breeze disturbs them. Fear doesn't leave, but it takes a back seat to the instant rush of heat that flares over my body when he lays me down on the bed. I need to touch him, compelled by instinct and something else. Whatever that link is that he says is taking over. It burns inside of me and I know it won't stop until he makes me his in the most intimate way. It makes me rush what I would have thought should be slow.

For a second I think I feel eyes in the darkness watching me. Eyes full of anger and jealousy. Though I open mine and peer over my shoulder to see there isn't anyone here, the feeling lingers. Then Edward kisses me, sliding my panties over my hips to vanish somewhere in the shadows and the feeling fades.

It's only us. The eyes are only imaginary. I cling to him harder. Tighten the thigh he pulls over his so that we are as close as we can be. His pale white skin glows under my hands, my light in the darkness. He's cold against my heat and oh, God. It feels so good. My body is racing ahead of my mind. I'm like a car on an oil slick track and I don't have any brakes. He rocks his thigh against me and I almost come. I want to so bad I can taste it and it's all I can do not to beg him to do it again. If he does it again I won't be able to stop, so I push myself back a little and run my hands over his spine.

His body is so smooth. Flawless, each muscle chiseled perfection, like a cold sculpture. I shiver all over but not because I'm cold. His cool temperature sets my skin on fire, makes me ache so badly I only want to get closer. I let my hand move down his chest. Enjoying the hiss of pleasure he makes, the slight reprimand when I touch his nipples and scratch him lightly with my fingernails. Down over his hard abdomen, feeling the crisp hair that trails there until I find him. Erect, hard, ready in the way he'd promised me he would be.

Satin over steel. It's the only descriptive my over heated mind can come up with though it is sadly inadequate. He's cold here too, but somehow more alive than other parts of his marble like body. It pulses in my palm, vibrating with some kind of energy I don't understand. A tiny fission of fear skates my spine as I measure his size and breadth, but it vanishes when he groans and my eyes fly up to meet his.

His hands come away from my body, though I hardly mind. Not when his expression looks like it does right now. If the moment was any less intense I'd smile. Finally something he didn't expect or know. He wasn't expecting this to feel so good.

He groans again and his hands move back to me, cupping my face as he rolls to his back. Pulling me down gently to his mouth while my hand begins to move over him. A shudder actually works its way over his body, the first time I've ever seen him do something so completely human. I didn't think vampires could shudder. The feeling that comes over me is powerful. This is Edward and I'm safe. A little more of the fear dissolves.

I could easily touch him like this all day, but I'm not surprised when only a few seconds later he tugs my hand away and rolls me onto my back. It is the dark angel look that he wears when he looks down at me, and it takes my breath away.

"Bella," he moans, conveying a wealth of desire in one whisper of my name. The need comes back again, hot and heavy in my core. Making me shake and whimper as he begins to love me in earnest. Cold sweet kisses on my lips, my neck, over my chest to the tips of each breast. So gentle and thorough, and yet always with an edge of barely restrained power that excites me violently.

He moves to his knees between mine and cups me possessively. I lose the ability to breathe. Exquisite cold against my heat. I'm wet, soaked, and I blush while he groans in pleasure, praising me like I've done something wondrous when really it's all him. Him and this connection that pulls us closer and closer.

I want to be his. His completely and utterly in every way possible. Forever.

"Edward, please," I beg, my hips rising, pressing wantonly against his fingers. On fire and unashamed. I need him to be inside of me. To burn the whole room down around us until there is nothing left. Not even the fear that still makes my heart pound. I can't banish it completely, but it won't control me. I won't let it take him away from me. I won't let it take _this_ away from me.

"Not yet, love," he groans. "You're not ready yet."

I don't see how I could possibly be any more so. Then he places the same fingers that had cupped me in his mouth, puts them back between my legs and I fall over the edge like a stone, barely able to draw in the breath I need to cry out loudly.

**Edward's POV**

She's so warm, so lush and wet against my fingers. Swollen and nearly ready, but not quite. I move my fingers from her perfect heat and place them in my mouth. Moving on instinct and knowledge shared to me by my brothers. The taste of her nearly knocks me down. It carries the very same essence as her blood. Hot, silky and floral, mixed with the musk of her arousal it's almost as potent. Venom lets down, flooding my mouth, different in taste and texture than normal. I'm prepared for the feeling, knowing that in all ways I am a powerful lure to my prey. Even in this most intimate way I've been equipped to seduce. The venom in my mouth is no less toxic than normal, but now in small quantities it is also a stimulant. As long as it never meets broken skin it can't harm her.

Before she has a chance to register my actions and become alarmed I place my fingers back down on her. Gently pressing through her silken folds and finding the satin nub at their beginning. It takes only the smallest stroke.

Bella comes apart at the seams, and nearly takes me with her. If I was not a vampire but a man, I'm certain I would have lost control, would have spilled over her velvet thighs like a useless adolescent. As it is it's a near thing. I might be enabled with powers of perfect control but they are powers I have never exercised. I knew she was on the edge and that it would take only the touch of my venom on her tender clitoris to send her flying, but I hadn't been prepared for how completely her scent and the sight of her letting go would affect me.

Tightening the binds that control my reaction, I focus solely on her. She is too exquisite to dare miss any of this. As her pleasure fades I dip one finger to the entrance of her body, circling, teasing, and drawing more of her body's silky fluid onto my venom coated finger. When the last clenching spasm fades, I slide that finger inside her depths with a low throated growl as she tightens around it. The second finger pushes her past her comfort zone but I'm already moving my thumb to circle her, increasing her pleasure, coaxing her back into heat.

She cries out my name, moving against my hand. Growling harder, I lower my mouth to hers claiming it the way I'm claiming her body.

"Again, Bella. Come again for me, love." My demand is met perfectly as I curl my fingers upwards, finding the sensitive ridge on her upper wall. She shatters again and I add a third finger, pushing her harder, opening her body, preparing her for me as completely as I can. The barrier of her innocence teases the tip of my index finger when I withdraw, swamping me with the most primal male reaction.

_Mine. No one has ever touched her this way. No one else ever will._

I remove my fingers slowly, carefully, missing the warmth and tightness immensely the second I do. My knees gently part her legs wider, my hands moving to cup her hips, lifting her, aligning her. I need her. I cannot possibly wait one more second for her, and yet somehow I do. Taking a moment to curl my hand around her soft cheek and sipping the last soft cry from her mouth, wanting her to feel loved, treasured. I run my fingers up her thigh and touch her gently one more time until I feel her tremble. I guide myself slowly to her core and wait for her to meet my eyes.

"Look at me, love." I moan as her honeyed heat engulfs the head of my erection. So soft, so fragile. I have to be so very careful now and I need her eyes open, her face uplifted so that I can read every nuance of her expression, recognize the difference between pleasure and pain.

She is still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasms. The tremors guide me deeper within her body, and her eyes widen at the sensation. Bracing one hand above her head to anchor my weight, I use the other to cup her hip. Steadying her, guiding her movements and keeping them contained lest she try too hard to take all of me too quickly.

Sharp little white teeth bite into the soft plumpness of her bottom lip as a small hiss of discomfort makes itself known. Forcing myself to stay still, I stroke her hip and thigh with the tips of my fingers. The pain is inevitable; nothing in my arsenal can prevent it. Holding her gaze I whisper her name and distract her by curling my fingers around her knee and drawing it upwards.

Her depths are scalding, nearly inconceivably hot and tight. My entire body trembles and aches with the need to take her. I've never known pleasure this intense and the urge to drive deep; to embed myself within her is consuming me.

Bella wraps her hands around my biceps, arching her back. A small mewl of her own restraint perfumes my air with her breath. She trembles hard, pleasure mingling with the pain.

"Edward, please. I need you..." She arches again and it is my turn to hiss as her movements take more of me inside. She is too tight; I'm going to tear her apart. I try to back away but she wraps the leg I don't hold around my hips and arches again.

I try to growl a warning. "Love, be still, don't..." She does it again. "Bella...God. Oh, sweetheart...angel..." My endearments are pants. I don't need the oxygen but her scent fills me and sustains me the way air cannot. I brace both hands above her now and force my body into immobility. When she arches again I grit my teeth, feeling muscles I should be able to control tremble as though they still have blood warming them, pulsing through them.

Bella arches again and we are nearly halfway there. I can feel the brush of that tiny veil of her hymen against me and I know it is stretched to the breaking point. One more push and I will destroy it forever. It makes me tremble harder. Still holding her gaze, I murmur her name like a question.

"Please," she whispers.

One tiny surge that uses only a minute fraction of my strength and it's done. She cries out once and I swallow the piercing sharpness with my mouth on hers, trying desperately to deter some part of her discomfort with bliss. She doesn't respond to the kiss, only lays still and silent, her eyes tightly closed, a furrow creasing her brow. I don't move at all, allowing her to adjust, letting the cool length of my body soothe her inside and out.

She exhales with a rush and goes limp. Unable to bear hurting her, I begin to withdraw but she instantly wraps both legs around me trying to stop it. Her eyes open again, tears trembling on her soft dark lashes.

"Don't stop." One of her arms reaches up, and she curls her fingers around my wrist while the other glides down my back and latches onto my buttock. Using me for leverage she begins to move her hips, slowly rocking back and forth over me. The pleasure of the friction is blinding, swelling me harder and harder inside of the tight, perfect sheathe of her body. I grit my teeth and lock my jaw. Torn, wanting her to take what she needs, wanting to allow her to have the control yet consumed by the need for more I growl loudly. Her eyes fall closed and she trembles all over.

"Edward, please," she begs, tearing down every defence, her plea sounding like a sob. I cannot resist her. Or maybe I just cannot fight what I want. Her. This. I begin to move; measuring the length of her, learning her shape, watching her pain become desire, focusing on her while a part of my mind goes insane with pleasure I am taking for myself.

She's like velvet. Tight hot wet velvet, clamping unbelievably hard around me, her inner muscles like heated bands of ever tightening silk. She rubs against every part of me, the scent of her skin grows sweeter with perspiration and my thirst roars to life, tangling with my lust. But the connection between us grows and my thirst is nothing. Nothing compared to her growing cries. Nothing compared to the feel of her becoming more and more fluid around me. Nothing at all compared to the sound of my name falling over and over again from her sweet ripe mouth.

"Bella...love." The ability to form coherent thought and words vanishes to a section of my mind I don't choose to use. I'm losing the fight to keep my movements slow, careful. She's tearing my will down with soft pleas for more, arching harder against me, begging now...

When she tightens around me again I can't deny her. Moving faster, deeper, withdrawing farther, and striving to balance her need for more with my waning control. Instinct is hard and insistent, urging me to go deeper, harder, faster. Instinct is dangerous. My hands are curling into fists, fingers tearing deeply into the pillow beneath her head. I leave the shreds and curl one of them beneath the small of her back. The other around metal instead. Metal on a headboard that feels no more substantial than the pillow or the impossibly delicate skin and bone beneath my other hand. The tortured groan of it twisting beneath my hand is hardly noticeable as Bella's cries grow louder. Her perfect beautiful body writhing now beneath mine, calling me, destroying me.

_She's so fucking beautiful. Mine. Always, forever. An eternity of forever's._

The metal snaps, turning to iron dust in my grip. I find a new hold and angle my hips to hers, tighter, closer. The friction inside and out becomes sweeter, hotter. She's clenching around me now, velvet bands beginning to pulse. My own body throbs, warm in a way I've never felt since before my change. She's melting beneath me, soaking me in wet delectable heat. The thrill of it hardens me further, which only excites me more. Her body answers perfectly, back arching, delicate thighs trembling around my hips. I want to spill deep inside of her, the call so powerful it's glorious.

Not without her. She's so close. I can feel it, taste it in her mouth, on the skin of her neck. My throat burns and it's nothing. Meaningless, a weak tiny pathetic flame in a burning inferno.

Bella's eyes open to mine and I drown in their depths. The connection between us grows and solidifies from the inside out, and with one last thrust the entire world disintegrates. Dissolves in heat so intense it sears our skin, torches our bodies. Her body convulses around me, and mine around and inside of hers. It feels as though everything in my being is drawn out, liquefying and draining inside of her with intense, aching pulses of bursting pleasure.

She trembles around me harder, bathing me in heat and light and love. Lost with me, fear disintegrating in the gift of her complete trust. Together we dissolve, and when the individual pieces realign back into something solid our arms are our sanctuaries, our kisses the only sustenance either of us craves.

I can still feel the darkness clinging to the edges of the room as I release the headboard, cradling her close. It doesn't matter now. Let it cling.

We've just begun forever.

* * *

*** Poem - A Woman Waits for Me, by Walt Whitman.**


	29. Chapter 29

A/N Special thanks to Octoberland for her beta skills.

* * *

Chapter 29 Shadows in the Afterglow

**Edward's POV**

If I were to try and imagine a moment more complete than this one I would fail a thousand times over. Every exhale of breath from my lungs is drawn into hers, and every one of hers is drawn into mine. Tiny aftershocks still make us both tremble, and though I know I should move away from her, I cannot. If the strength of her hold is any indication she feels the same. I draw her closer, pressing a tender kiss against her neck, relishing her little shiver of reaction.

She is so perfectly responsive, so beautifully and utterly captivating it is all I can do not to once again begin the movements that would take us both back into bliss. As much as making love to her a second time appeals to me, the sound of her heartbeat serves as a vivid reminder of how fragile, how human she is. I need to allow her body time to recover.

Softly I caress the still tense muscles of her thighs and hips. Relaxing the tight hold she has around my body and easing her legs back down against the bed. Moving away from her, breaking our intimate connection makes her whimper slightly in pain and I am quick to cuddle her closer, searching through the dim lighting for any sign that I might have hurt her. My faultless vision reveals no new marks or bruising, reassuring me that her discomfort is nothing new. At least not beyond what any innocent feels after her first time. The faint scent of blood perfectly matches the small traces I can see staining the tender skin on her inner thighs. Mingled as it is with the scents of our lovemaking, its potency is nearly intoxicating. Though thankfully it does not inflame my thirst. Instead it only engenders a feeling of warm possessiveness coupled with a deep desire to care for her.

She bites her lip as her eyes follow the direction of my gaze. "Does it bother you?" she whispers. "I should wash..."

Placing a finger across her mouth, I smile gently. "It doesn't bother me, love, shh." Taking the same hand that had silenced her, I place it carefully between her legs, palm resting against her, soothing her with coolness. "Are you hurting?"

Blushing she shakes her head and I laugh lightly. "Liar," I murmur, leaning closer so that I can kiss the tip of her nose. The blush flares hotter, bathing my lips in heat.

"Maybe a little," she says, her eyes darting back and forth over mine, worry etching tiny little lines in her forehead. "But that's normal, Edward. It isn't anything you did. I'm just . . ." She smiles shyly and shrugs. "Human."

Laughing, I kiss away the tiny lines in her brow. "Ah yes. My fragile little human, how could I forget?" I can't resist moving my fingers over her heat, greedy for the little stutter of her heartbeat and the soft moan she makes in the back of her throat. She's still swollen and incredibly sensitive, and I know with very little effort I could make her come again for me. Discovering not only how responsive and sensual she is, but also that she is capable of multiple orgasms is my sweetest discovery ever. Only discovering where her limits might lie will be any sweeter. Regretfully now is not the time so I draw my fingers away. The taste of the venom in my mouth is bitterly strong with her blood scent filling the air. Though I have no compulsion to engage my thirst, it still isn't wise to tempt those needs.

Sliding from the bed I kiss her mouth gently and tell her that I'll be right back. Drawing the sheets over her, I speed out of the room not wanting to be gone from her for more than a second. I pause just long enough to grab my cell phone from the desk and turn it back on, taking it with me. I hear Bella mutter something about freakish vampire speed and it makes me want to laugh. How easy it is to be myself around her now. How much lighter I feel.

Hitting the pre-programmed button that will dial Carlisle's cell phone, I feel a twinge of guilt for doubting myself, and in effect, doubting his faith in me. Knowing that he was close by should something go wrong was a comfort however, that I could not pass up.

"Edward." He answers instantly, his voice calm, his faith in me so complete he cannot even fake concern.

"Carlisle. I just wanted to let you know that everything is fine." Better than fine. Unbelievably better and the grin that breaks out over my face is ridiculous and juvenile and completely unstoppable. "I..." Sighing I shake my head still unable to stop the grin even knowing it shows in every word I speak. "I just wanted to let you know . . . And to say . . . thank you for staying close and for . . . " Words fail me, the oddity of the situation not lost on either of us. Decades of closeness have eradicated embarrassment, as have the countless conversations on the subject that he and I have shared. It can't completely vanquish awkwardness though.

His answering laugh to my stumbling words is warm with fatherly pride and love. "Rose and your Mother have gone hunting. Perhaps I'll join them then, if you feel all right about everything." I can hear the grin that probably matches my own in some ways. He's close enough to the house that even over the phone I can catch the tenor of his thoughts clearly. His curiosity is apparent as well as his pride. He seems to be nearly bursting with both, but he's much too respectful to ask inappropriate questions. "Jasper is watching over Charlie and Julie tonight, and Alice and Emmett are watching the Quileute borders. Everything is quiet, Edward, and we will be hunting very close to home." His tone is gentle, urging me to let my fears relax for this night.

The reminder of everything I've put aside burns back to the forefront of my mind. I pause in the act of rummaging through the hall closet in search of several items, closing my eyes. As though he can read minds as well, Carlisle speaks quietly but firmly.

"Edward listen to me, son. For tonight, allow your family to stand for you. Forget everything else. You and Bella need this right now. Do not allow anything negative to cloud your mind. Focus on her, Edward. Nothing else matters tonight, nothing."

I know he is right and I take strength from him. For tonight none of the other things matter. Only her and I, the love we've made, the connection we've finally forged.

"Thank you, Carlisle." I know he hears all the countless things I am thanking him for.

"You're welcome, son." He chuckles again and I can already hear the wind as he begins to run. "Enjoy your evening." The phone disconnects and I place it on top of the stack of items I've acquired, leaving it turned on. I will focus on us. I won't however, allow myself to completely forget that nothing is resolved. The dangers are still present and I would be a fool not to remember that. Somewhere out there tonight, Jacob Black still lives and breathes. For now.

**Bella's POV**

I'm just about to get out of bed when Edward returns. He's been gone for less than a minute. Barely enough time for me to even contemplate getting up and washing away the blood I'm sure must be searing his poor throat to bits. He comes back into the room like a blur, placing a cold thorough kiss on my mouth before I can blink. He's grinning like a Cheshire cat and he's so beautiful it hurts. I can't remember the last time I saw him smile this way and that hurts as well, even as it brings an answering smile to my own face.

"Where do you think you're going, Bella?" His eyes are still dark but they sparkle slightly with his teasing mood. He's mesmerizing, and it takes me a long few seconds to gather my scrambled thoughts.

"I was just going to clean up a bit." The blush comes back again, annoying and hot. I haven't missed this little traitorous sign of my moods. I'm almost sorry it's back. That is until he runs the back of his fingers over my cheek so obviously thrilled to see it again.

"I've missed that," he murmurs, eyes turning less teasing with a faint edge of their previous sadness. I can see him making an effort to push it away again. Smiling, he holds out his hand and gently urges me to my feet. Naked and gorgeous he leads me down the hallway and into Carlisle and Esme's bathroom.

A violent flashback hits me hard, making me gasp. I can feel the colour drain out of my face. Even though I scramble to see what is in front of me instead of what is in my mind, I can't stop the tears. Edward curses viciously, wrapping cold fingers around my face, anchoring me back to reality with his touch.

"Baby, no. Damn it, I'm so sorry, Bella. Love, I'm so sorry. I didn't think..." He trails off, his eyes closing. Remembering that this is the only bathtub in the house and that alone is why he'd bring me here soothes my panic. I can see the room. The way it is right now and not the way it was when I was so sick and broken. He's lit candles again. They're everywhere. Soft flickering light around the outside edges of the huge sunken tub. Not the hard bright burning light that had felt like fire on my eyes. The tub is full of water, warm steam rising from a covering of bubbles, not a hard crust of ice cubes shimmering like crystals. We're alone, just him and I, no one else. My skin isn't on fire. It's warm and nothing hurts except my heart.

His eyes open again, darker now and full of remembered pain. While my memories of that moment are hazy with the fever and the fear that had been nearly constant, I realize that his are not. I can't imagine what it must have done to him to find the strength to put me in that tub full of ice and freezing cold water. Knowing that it would be torturous for me, knowing that it would add to the pain I was already in.

"I'm sorry," he whispers again. I lay my fingers over his mouth and shake my head.

"Don't, Edward. It's okay. I'm okay. I just...had a minute. I forgot, I guess." I offer him a small weak, watery smile while he kisses the tips of my fingers. He holds them to his mouth while his eyes shut again so tight I can see the purple that sweeps his lids from lash to brow. "I don't remember it all that well anyway." It's a weak offering but he smiles tensely, eyes flashing open and burning. Yes, he remembers it well enough for both of us.

"You were so sick, Bella. Burning up from the inside out so that when I picked you up I was terrified you'd just burst into flame and vanish right out of my arms." As though he's trying to reassure himself it isn't true, cold solid arms lock around my body dragging me to him so tightly it's almost too hard. Yet oddly, not nearly hard enough. I find myself pushing against him, needing to be closer while he drops his head and buries it against my neck. I can feel the fear he felt that night vibrating beneath the rock solid form of his body. I tremble with him, resisting the urge to tell him it is okay, that it doesn't matter. It matters to him. He's carrying his own scars from everything that has happened.

"Carlisle gave you medication but it wasn't working fast enough. Your temperature just kept sky rocketing. I could hear his thoughts racing through his mind so fast I could barely grasp them. Brain damage...death..._God_." His arms clasp tighter around me and it hurts, but I don't care. I just push back, wanting him to hold me even tighter. A shudder vibrates him as his hands move to cup my face again, like he needs to see for himself that I'm fine now. "I've never been so scared, Bella. Not ever. Of all the times I'd almost lost you, I'd never felt like I did in that moment. I swear I could almost feel you slipping away from me." His lips are cold and fierce when he kisses me, licking at the seam of my mouth until I open for him and flicking inside, almost desperate. As though only the taste of me will ease him. It seems to work and his hands suddenly grow careful, the hard lines of his body relaxing slightly while my knees nearly buckle. He catches me gently.

"I can't change anything that has happened. I can't erase your memories." He looks at the tub then back at me, swallowing away whatever other words he'd been about to say. "It's warm, love." The small smile that twists his mouth is edged in sadness. "Will you let me create a new memory for you?"

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I nod. With exquisite care he lifts me in his arms, cradling me the same way he did that night before stepping into the tub. We sink down into the warm water slowly. His midnight dark eyes remain on mine the entire time, as though looking away would hurt him. I close mine as the water envelops us, the heat blissfully sliding over my skin which still feels sensitive and tingling in the aftermath of his touches. Exactly mimicking his actions from that dark night he places me on his lap, my legs stretched out into the vast tub. Only now there is only him and I. No Carlisle, no Emmett forcing my legs down against the freezing cold bottom.

With so much tenderness and care it makes my heart hurt he takes a soft cloth and washes away the small traces of blood. I watch him now, forcing away my tainted memories, trying to see if this is hurting him. He looks sad, his eyes dark yet different from his thirst. I'm beginning to understand the darkness comes from his emotions and not his hunger. If the smell of my blood is tempting him, he's masking it unbelievably well. When he moves the cloth higher I suffer the oddest mixture of embarrassment and hot need combined with a little hiss of discomfort as the water fully hits me. The soft aroma of lavender scented Epsom salts are calming, and it instantly begins to soothe my tender areas. A kiss sends my sensitive nerve endings into overdrive. Edward groans as though he can read every complicated nuance of my feelings, which knowing him, he probably can. I've never felt so close to him, so sheltered and protected as I do right now.

Turning us both he settles his back to the tub and mine against his chest. His splayed legs cradle my hips, bent slightly on either side of my body while he tucks my hair up and lays my head back against the hollow beneath his shoulder. Taking my hands, he wraps both our arms around my body, holding me close. Placing a cool kiss against my temple, he begins to talk quietly, wrapping me even more in his velvet voice.

"Do you remember what I said to you that night, Bella?"

**Edward's POV**

She shakes her head, and I resist the urge to curse myself out loud. Of course she wouldn't remember. She'd been partly delusional in fever, shattering and in agonizing pain in a bath of freezing water being forcefully held down by three vampires. I hold her closer all the while cursing inwardly at my stupidity. No wonder she's been consumed by doubt and fear about us, about me. I should have repeated my words, my promises, every day and every minute since.

Managing a small laugh that sounds forced even to me, I brush my lips over her soft skin. "I think I kept repeating that I was sorry, that I loved you. I was so panicked I can't be sure if I was making any sense." I don't tell her that I was also being bombarded by the fear and pain of everyone else who was present. Emmett's horror at having to hold her down, Alice's helpless trauma at being unable to see if Bella would be okay. Carlisle's fear, a fear I'd never before felt from him though I'd witnessed dozens of life threatening procedures performed by his competent hands. Esme's heart breaking, Rose's suffocating rage and helplessness. All of it topped off by Jasper's futile attempts to calm her while he suffers her emotions of confusion and pain.

"It seemed to help, so I kept saying it. Telling you that you were my life, my angel, my heart." Gently I turn her face up to me and tipping her delicate little chin so that I can brush my lips over hers, look into the eyes that I cannot live without. Reaching out with my free hand I pick up the small box I'd hidden beneath a towel at the side of the tub, holding her gaze while I repeat the words I'd said that night. Words I had meant no less in that moment than I do now.

"I love you, Isabella Marie Swan soon to be Cullen. I will love you until the world fails around us, until the planet grows cold with a dying sun. I will love you long past eternity and I will never, never let you go." Bringing the box to the front of us, still keeping one hand on her face so she can't yet turn, I implore her as much with my eyes as I do my voice.

"You are my forever, Bella just as I am yours." The box is silent as I lift its satin lid on its gold filigreed hinges. She senses the movement and turns her face to look down. She's begun to cry at my words. Even through blurry eyes she can see that this is one of those gifts she has worked so hard to forbid. Her small gasp ends with my name. Not allowing her a chance to argue, I brush my lips to her ear.

"Just this once, Bella, don't deny me." I whisper pleadingly. Her hand hesitates for a moment and then she reaches up to dry her fingers on a lock of hair that had fallen forward at her movements. Hesitantly she traces the necklace glittering in its black, velvet lined encasement. White gold, delicate enough not to overpower her slender neck, the diamonds in the infinity symbol sparkle in the candlelight. The expense is nothing to me but I know she would flinch if she knew what it had cost. Because it has been custom designed and made she will hopefully never know. I'd drawn the design and sent the exact measurements and requirements to a jeweler in Seattle only two weeks ago. He'd put aside everything else to make it for me and it was perfect in every way. I'd meant it for our wedding night, but known the second I'd made my decision for this night that it was meant for now. An object to solidify the promise of us. She had the engagement ring, but that was before. Everything from this point on seemed to rest on this. Would she accept this gift or would she refuse it, still feeling herself unworthy of me, of our love? Still thinking we were somehow unbalanced?

Her fingers tremble, barely ghosting over the necklace. The symbol is common, though I've altered it to make it unique. My design loops in on itself over and over until the eyes cannot decipher where it begins and ends, twisting like coils, each strand impossibly fine. All the complicated threads of our lives weaving together. Only a jeweler of extreme talent could have pulled it off. Three diamonds in the center sparkle with exquisite cut and clarity. Three stones to mark our past, our present, our future. The coiling pattern weaves outwards from the stones like tiny vines bursting from blossoms.

Leaning forward even more she slips onto her knees, resting her bottom on her heels. Anxiety prickles my chest as I half expect her to stand and get out of the tub, walk away and leave me sitting alone. Instead she reaches up, tucking the bulk of her hair tight against the base of her skull. The perfect position to allow me to place the necklace around her neck. It is a testament to my unnatural state of being that my fingers do not tremble when I secure the clasp.

She turns slowly back to me her beautiful eyes awash with unshed tears. Sliding into my arms and wrapping her legs around my hips until our bodies are connected intimately, she cups my face in her warm wet hands. Moves them around until they tangle in my hair while she rests her forehead against mine.

"Forever." Smiling she presses her lips gently against mine, brushing them teasingly back and forth. "I like the sound of that, Edward."

She wrecks me. Completely, utterly. I will never again be whole without her in my arms, just like this. Naked, gorgeous, perfection personified. It doesn't even occur to me to control my reaction. Not until she gasps and rocks her hips against mine. Then I remember how tender she must be.

"Bella." She does it again, stealing the words of warning right out of my mouth. "I don't want to hurt you." My traitorous hands find her hips and pull her forward again. She's a thousand times hotter than the water to me, and her little moan of approval at my action doesn't help my resolve at all. "Love," I groan. "You need time to heal. It might hurt if we..."

"I don't care."

"Bella..."

"Please."

As if she needs to plead. She's barely whispered the word and I'm already rising from the tub, keeping her legs wrapped around my waist. The water sloshes over the edges, extinguishing some of the candles with a hiss. I barely have the presence of mind to wrap a towel over her before I'm flying back to the bedroom, laying her on the bed. Grateful for once for decades of knowledge and images that remind me I know so much more than I've ever experienced. I do not need to be inside of her body to make love to her.

**Bella's POV**

I'm counting on Edward to know when enough's enough. Because I don't. I don't think there ever will be enough. I'm exhausted, nearly limp, but I don't want him to stop. Not now, not ever. Every move he makes is perfect. His creativity knows no bounds, but creative wasn't enough, not for me. Not now when I know what having all of him is like. He'd been so afraid it would hurt, that I'd be too sensitive after the first time, and he was right. But this isn't the kind of pain I want to avoid. Not this tiny twinge of discomfort that comes right along with a thousand shards of piercing pleasure.

He moves in me and it happens again, that startling burst of pleasure that radiates from the place we're joined and covers my entire body with waves of heat and the most exquisite sensations. I've lost count now. Each wave seems to blend with the last. I know it has to stop soon. I am only human but _oh_...I wish it wouldn't have to end.

His skin is cold, perfect against the heat of mine. Soothing and igniting all at once. All the lines have blurred. I don't know where he ends and I begin. When I arch my back and take him deeper the feeling intensifies like I'm melting.

Can you die from this? My heart hammers in my chest and I'm practically boneless. Surely he knows when we should stop. He's more in tuned with my heartbeat than I could ever be. I hope it is strong enough. Not because I'm afraid to die, but because I don't want this to end. It needs to keep beating so I can keep feeling this way. So I can keep watching _him_ feel this way.

He hisses my name when I scrape my fingernails down his perfect, marble smooth back. Though I do it hard I doubt that he feels it as anything more than a caress. My nails don't dent his skin at all. Not that it matters. He likes it so I do it again; find some kind of reserve strength to tighten my hold on him and arch closer still.

Will he know when it's enough? Do I want him to know when it's enough?

"Bella." The vibration of his saying my name against my neck in that deep, throaty groan only translates into more heat, more pleasure. I want to say his name as well, but I don't have the strength or the air in my lungs. Then his lips are on mine and his hands are in my hair and he's moving faster, looking down at me, so intense, dark, and it doesn't matter at all . . .

"Once more," he growls, eyes growing blacker and blacker, wicked cold fingers moving between our bodies, taking me impossibly higher. "Once more, love."

"With you," I manage to plead, loving that it makes him groan and shake against me. Makes him falter in his perfect movements for just a fraction of a second before he growls a yes against my lips.

Can you die from this? I think you can. I think maybe I do.

I realize I can't be dead, not when he's whispering my name, telling me that he loves me. Drawing the blankets over us and holding me close. I think I say his name, I think I tell him that I love him but he only chuckles, his sweet breath touching my lips.

"Sleep, Bella. Dream about beautiful things tonight, love. Only good things."

For a while it is only good things. For a while.

**Charlie's POV**

The night is as black as the ace of spades. From my bedroom window I watch the rain hit the road. The puddles look bottomless, capable of sucking a grown man down into the depths of hell. The pale glow of a single street light makes the forest across the street look like a solid wall of impenetrability. Despite that, I can feel eyes watching the house, coming from that wall. I can't see in but the eyes that watch can sure as hell see out. I don't know who it is. Not that it matters specifically. It's one of the Cullens. Probably one of Edward's brothers. Edward is the only one I can be sure won't be out there. He wouldn't leave Bella's side to guard my ass. Can't say as I blame him.

The drawer of my bureau squeaks a little as I pull it open, forcing me to stop and listen hard. Julie sleeps like a cat. If she hears me, she'll check on me and the last thing I want is that. Not a lot of light comes through the window, but I don't need it. My hand finds what I'm looking for as easy as it ever does. Two items that are like an extension of me. My gun and my badge. I move them from the drawer, laying them carefully side by side, right by the phone. My hand shakes a bit as I pick up the receiver, damp with sweat, reminding me that I'm nothing more than the shell of the man I used to be. The old Charlie would have done this without thinking twice, and his hands sure as hell wouldn't shake. But I'm not the old Charlie. A sharp pain flares down my arm and settles in my chest, threatening to take away my breath. Ignoring it I pull the shade and hit speed dial, just like I have a thousand times in the past. The musical chime of the dialing is just as familiar as the voice that halts the ringing on the other end. Closing my eyes I will away the pain. Not yet. Not yet.

"Billy." A familiar name, familiar greeting. Just like always. Too bad it's a stranger on the other end of familiar.

"Charlie. I'm glad you called."

_Are you? I'm not._ "Yeah, well . . . Listen, Billy. We need to talk."

"Yeah, I know."

_Glad you do. I don't know shit anymore._ "9 o'clock. You know where."

Not a lick of hesitancy. "I'll be there."

Wiping the sweat from my palm I pick up my gun check the clip and the safety. My eyes flick to the window again, though I can't see anything with the blind down. Keeping secrets is nearly impossible but I'm pretty sure I'm pulling it off. For now. I know whoever is watching has already circled the house. I'd caught a brief glimpse a little over a half hour ago near the edge of the back yard. Not enough to tell who it was, but more than enough to know it wasn't an animal or a curfew skipping teenager taking a shortcut. Years of surveillance work come in handy. My keepers don't stick to schedules, but they don't like to be out in the open either. Secretive, reclusive. All words that could be their middle names. Smart would be their first.

Keeping my current keeper in the dark is the least of my worries though. Another pain, duller this time, curls my hand tighter on the gun. It looks the same as the one Jacob had pulled from my hand. Identical except for the serial number. Standard police issue in all ways but one. This one isn't traceable. For all intents and purposes it doesn't even really exist. No permit, no paperwork. No background. I'd watched that all burn in a metal garbage bin the day I'd left the hospital and convinced Julie to make a quick stop at the station.

Placing the gun back on the dresser, I pick up my badge. It fits in my hand like a mold. For more than twenty years it has been the representation of who I am. I don't even blink as I drop it in the waste paper basket. It slides to the right and vanishes underneath the soft used bandages I'd torn off a few hours ago. It makes a small indistinct metallic sound as it hits the bottom.

Moving to the bed I sit with my back to the headboard, staring at the window and waiting for the dark edges around the blind to lighten. I have one thing I need to do before I see Billy. Covering all my bases, the mark of a good cop. As soon as morning comes, I'm going to see Bella. Make sure she's made her decision, though it is nothing more than a technicality. I already know she has, but hearing it from her mouth is important somehow.

So yeah. My current keeper is the least of my worries. In a few hours the sun will come up. Then I'll have to face the one thing between her and me and an end to this entire God damn mess.

Edward.

I'm pretty sure he's already onto me. In fact, I'm banking on it.

_The porch is dark with shadows. A flare of light. A match that burns hot and fast, followed by a single halo of smoke that illuminates a face. Just a brief glimpse before the shadows swallow it back again. _

"_It's starting." The figure murmurs, fingering a cell phone in his lap._

_The wreaths of smoke climb higher, scenting the air with herbs both pungent and long forgotten. The figure draws the dream world in around him, weaves it until its tapestry is solid and substantial. The dream world cannot show him the future. It can only show the secret paths of the men and women that create it. He is a powerful Shaman. He knows how to read the dream world, just as he knows there is only one way to stop the coming war. He thought he'd stopped it before, but he'd been wrong. The fates are lining their players up in a row. Dozens of possibilities, none of them acceptable paths out of the darkness. He's accepted that he may not be able to save his son. But he cannot accept the outcome of a war, the possible destruction of innocents. _

_Drawing the smoke inside his lungs the figure ignores all that is around him and summons her. It is all coming full circle now, it started with her, and it will end, one way or the other, with her. She controls the players that fate lines up. Only her. It is a crippling weight he dares to place on her shoulders._

_If she cannot save them, no one can._

**Bella's POV**

_I know I'm dreaming. Standing on white sand and watching a beautiful sun blaze over a teal blue ocean that sparkles like diamonds would have been my first tip. Would have, if my skin wasn't sparkling with a radiance ten times more multifaceted than the water. That and the fact that I'm running with the wind in my hair, laughing and not tripping even once._

_Arms wrap around me from behind, scooping me up, making my laugh turn to a squeal. I instantly know it's Edward and that I'm like him. Perfect, immortal._

"_You're still not faster than me, love."_

"_Give me time. I'm still practicing." He's gloriously lit up by the sun. More beautiful than ever, so much so that he still takes my breath away even though I don't need to breathe._

_He laughs and spins me in a circle again and again and again . . . Some of the sunlight leaches out of the sky with each twirl. When he spins me faster I catch glimpses of someone walking up the beach toward us. Edward is spinning me too fast to tell who it is. Finally he sets me down but I can't find the man now._

"_Did you see that man?"_

"_Bella," Edward laughs. "This is our own private paradise, love. No one is here but you and me."_

_He moves away, and I watch him go. My skin stops sparkling as the sun vanishes behind heavy dark clouds. It looks pale and human, like always. He pauses at the water's edge and holds his hand out to me._

"_Come for a swim with me." His smile is stunning with how happy he seems. As though he hasn't got a care in the world. Uneasy, my glance moves back down the beach and I see the man again, walking slowly toward us._

"_Edward, don't you see . . ." I turn back to him but the beach is empty now. The water calm and flat and completely barren, Edward vanished just like the sun. I spin around again and the man is closer. Only a few feet away, his back to me as he stares out across the water with his hands in his pockets. The familiar tilt of his shoulders sends a shock through me._

"_Billy?"_

_He doesn't look at me or answer, but I know I'm right. "I don't want you to be here. This is supposed to be a happy dream." Tears burn the backs of my eyelids and his shoulders slump._

"_I know. I'm sorry for that. You haven't had many happy dreams of late." Finally he looks at me. Like always dream Billy doesn't need a wheelchair. His face is younger, stronger. He's more real than anything else here._

"_Why are you here?" He's been here before. I've been here before. Not on this beach, just here. Wherever here is. I forget when I'm awake. But I'm not awake now._

"_I just wanted you to know how sorry I am." _

_The water laps at my ankles and in the distance I swear I hear the sounds of wolves howling. My skin crawls._

"_Don't be afraid. Nothing of mine will ever hurt you again, Bella." Billy's eyes are changing color. Blue, to brown, to green, to a teal as bright as the ocean water. Constant, never settling for more than a second on any one. The effect is strangely calming. Turning his face away from me he looks back out over the water. Feeling suddenly cold, I shiver, wishing the sun was back. And suddenly it is, basking me in warmth. The wolves are quiet, the beach pristine and beautiful once again. Billy is smiling gently when I look back at him, but his eyes are very watchful._

"_Charlie's coming to visit me today. I think he's going to come and see you first."_

_It seems like he's asking me a question, but I don't know the answer. He smiles again._

"_Sometimes there are no right answers, Bella" he says. His eyes are mauve now, blazing in contrast with the sunlight. "Sometimes what seems right at the time is just wrong. But you can't go back. So you go forward."_

"_I'm trying to go forward, Billy."_

"_Yes. You're trying. But others aren't. Others are looking backwards. They think if they go back they can right the wrongs. Problem is they can't go back. And you can't go forward when anger holds you in the same place."_

"_Is this a riddle?"_

_He shrugs his shoulders gently. "Life is a riddle."_

_Tiny little guppies dance in the water, tickling my toes. "I can't help what others do." I say sadly. If wistful had a flavour it would taste like the salty ocean. Like the tears I can suddenly feel on my cheeks._

"_No, little dreamer. You can't. But you can lead the way. Show them the path. Be strong so they will follow." His voice is so gentle. I remember a time when I was a little girl and I used to be lulled to sleep by the sound of him and Charlie, talking in the living room while they watched a game. _

"_I'm not strong. Not anymore, not like before. . ." The ghost of who I used to be haunts me._

"_No. You aren't strong like you were before. You're stronger."_

_Mauve turns blue, then fall leaf gold and then orange, like autumn leaves crinkling underfoot in the fall. "You're asking too much." I whisper, feeling the sun fall into my mouth and scorch my throat. Is this a vampire's thirst? Is it blood I want? How much blood will be enough to quench a thirst like this? One born not from immortality, but out of darkness and hate and anger. And who will get me the blood I need? Edward? Charlie? One of the Cullens? How many hands will I let be stained red to slake my thirst?_

"_I know." Simply stated but full of sadness and regret. I watch him use a stick to trace patterns in the sand. A white stick, beach wood, bleached by sun, sand, wind and water. Flashes of a circle of fire flicker behind my eyelids when I close them, unable to bear the ever changing colors of a Shaman's eyes. _

_I remember Old Quil. A staff that pounds against the soft, wet earth but still manages to vibrate the ground like a heartbeat. One exactly like Billy's. Fire and smoke and pain and.. hope._

_So many promises to break._

"_Infinity is a very long time," Billy says quietly. I open my eyes and watch him trace that exact symbol into the sand. Deeper and deeper with each pass so that the sand turns wet and dark. A never ending figure eight._

_More flickers. Dream memories this time. Three fires. Blazing in the night air, sparking in an open clearing that is full of wind. Fires blazing while I'd burned with fever. Three fires to save three souls. Just like the three perfect fiery diamonds cutting into the tips of my fingers where they clasp my necklace tightly. As though I'm afraid it will disappear._

_Infinity is a very long time. Who will I be at the end of infinity? If I'm full of this burning hateful thirst, who will I be?_

_Beside the first symbol Billy traces a circle. "One," he murmurs, "separate and alone. Then he leans down, tracing it with his finger now and the circle ignites. A small fire leaping from cool wet sand. He hovers his hand over the infinity symbol. "In one, you stood alone. Separate from one another." His finger follows the deep grooves, still hovering. "Now you are linked, soon to be bound by nothing, not even mortal binds. Never again separate." His eyes are black when he looks at me. "He walked through fire for you, Bella. What is joined can never be undone." The symbol ignites, burning higher, harder and faster. Standing straight again he looks over his shoulder, a small resolved smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Not even the dream world can separate you, and he doesn't sleep."_

_I follow his gaze and see Edward walking toward us. His face is a mask. His stride long and powerful. He's still far away but eating the distance quickly._

_Billy waves his hands over the fires and the infinity symbol stops burning. The sand is completely unblemished. Burning still, the circle seems to glow hotter. Waving his hand again the circle stops burning as well. The sand is charred, streaked in black, melted and disfigured. He points to the perfect unmarked infinity symbol._

"_Together you are stronger. Unbreakable."_

"_Why are you showing me this, Billy? What does it matter?" There is fear in my voice as Edward gets closer. He looks angry now. My fear is for Billy, though he seems unconcerned._

_Another wave of his hand and the infinity symbol starts to burn again. Only this time the flames are blue, angry and leaping. Writhing over the sand until I can't see the shape anymore._

"_Even unbreakable can burn if you let it. It can burn so hot and hard it weakens everything. Burns until it ignites everything around it. Everything."_

_The flames are beautiful and fearfully enticing. If they burn hot enough maybe I will finally feel clean, whole. "I don't care," I whisper._

"_You have to care, Bella. If you let it burn it will destroy everything you love."_

_Billy and the beach suddenly begin to fade. I can hear Edward's voice, calling my name._

"_You have to stop the fire, Bella."_

"_Why?" I can only whisper the question, shocked by how much I want to let the flames burn, even knowing, believing that he is right. That they will burn until there is nothing left. I could reach out right now and embrace the flames and I know they would feel good against my skin. That I could add the perfect fuel to make them burn even brighter. That I could let it devour me and not care. Not care at all._

"_Because it's starting, Bella." His voice is still so calm but oh, the sadness is so raw, so all encompassing._

"_What? What is starting?" I scream it, hating that he's trying to take the fire away from me. Hating him, hating him and his ... son._

_He answers quietly. So much sadness."The beginning."_

_I hate this. I hate this. I want it to burn. God help me, but I do. I start screaming and don't ever want to stop._

**Edward's POV**

"Bella! Wake up. It's okay. Shh! Wake up, it's okay, love. Just open your eyes, Bella. Open your eyes for me, it's only a dream."


	30. Chapter 30

Beta'd by Octoberland

* * *

Chapter 30 Truth Without Reason

**Charlie's POV**

I wait just past the first rays of light that creep under the edges of the blinds, grab my jacket off the end of the bed, and slip as silently as possible out the front door. I've left Julie a note telling her where I'll be. The fact that I don't intend to be at the Cullens the entire time I'm gone isn't really relevant. What is relevant is that she doesn't throw a fit and try to come looking for me. My being with Carlisle, the good Doctor she thinks can do no wrong, is about the only thing that will keep her from having a hissy over my early morning departure.

The ground is soaking wet from all the rain yesterday and the air is full of the kind of damp that gets under a man's skin. Flipping the collar up on my jacket, I hunch my shoulders, studying the woods. Yep, still there. I can feel him.

Holding up my car keys, I focus in on the most likely spot. The one that offers the best view of the house and everything around it. "Thought I'd go see Bella this morning. You want to drive?" If I've learned anything, and God knows I've learned a lot, it's that I don't need to raise my voice above a damn whisper for any of the Cullens to hear me. There is the faintest brush of not there before wind in my face, and just like that, I'm not alone.

Jasper. Should have known. The other brother is no less skilled at being silent and unseen, but he's more likely to let me know he's there one way or the other. Same with any of the girls. Not this one though. All of the Cullens have the human act down pat, fooled me for years and I'm trained to look for suspicious, but this one's veil is a hell of a lot thinner for some reason. The chill that creeps down my spine seems to settle in my bones. I'd like to think it's the damp.

Dropping the keys and not the least bit surprised when he catches them mid air, I head for the passenger side. He settles into the driver's seat bringing the stronger smell of rain and forest in with him. Despite a wet night out his clothing is only slightly damp.

The fingers of my left hand tingle, little darts of pain flashing like electric arcs up and down my arm. Reclining the seat I settle back, not surprised to feel the sleepless night catching up with me. The damp and cold have oozed right into the cars upholstery. My silent chauffeur turns on the heat as he backs the car out of the driveway, angling the vents to blow in my direction.

"Put your seatbelt on, son. And don't play with my siren." I mutter. Out of the corner of my eye I catch the small twitch at the corner of his mouth. On an otherwise expressionless face it doesn't help him look more human. Yep, veil is seriously thin on this one, especially now. I get the impression that keeping up illusions has become second nature to all of them, letting pretense slip wouldn't happen easily. For him, I suspect the opposite might be true. It's hard to imagine him with little tiny spritely Alice. But then again it's even harder to imagine little tiny spritely Alice being what she is.

I close my eyes while he ignores my seatbelt order, listening to the soothing hum of rubber on asphalt. It's a good twenty minute drive to the Cullen's home, I could use a catnap. Still, I'm not surprised when a few minutes pass and I'm wide awake.

The silence is too heavy. "Did you already let them know I'm coming?"

"Yes." No hesitancy there.

"Thought it'd be easier this way. Bella had a hard time at the house yesterday." I keep my eyes closed enjoying the rush of warm air that is beginning to fill the car. Jasper stays quiet, not even a hum of polite response. In fact he's so quiet I have a sudden eerie premonition that if I open my eyes there won't be anyone there. Just me in a driver-less car, coasting down the road. I keep my eyes closed. I live in the damn Twilight zone as it is, no sense testing my sanity anymore than need be. "Save Carlisle a trip out while I'm at it too I suppose."

Again, no answer. Well I'm not talking for conversation anyway. I seem to just like the sound of my own voice these days. "Been cooped up in the house so long, I'm starting to forget what the real world looks like." I settle back a little farther, cross my legs at the ankles. I might just take that catnap after all. Car's warm now, maybe even a little too warm. The thought of sleep makes me think of Bella, wonder if she slept last night, if her dreams are nightmares like mine. Hoping they weren't, knowing it is a stupid pathetic hope. After the panic attack I'd seen her go through yesterday I know damn well that her dreams probably make mine look like G rated Disney movies.

"You're worried about Bella." He doesn't ask, he states it in a soft, darkly compelling voice, startling me out of a light doze. He confirms it isn't a question by continuing without waiting for me to reply. "Don't be."

"Comes with the Father territory. You don't get to turn it off." I wonder if he too has some kind of ability to get inside people's heads the way Edward does. Carlisle said Edward and Alice are gifted, he never said anything about the rest, and I sure didn't ask. The whole need to know thing and not testing my sanity theory.

"We won't allow anything to happen to her again. Ever." The emphasis on 'ever' is faint, the menace behind his words even fainter, yet every damn hair on my body stands on end.

Somehow we are already pulling into the Cullen's driveway, though by the clock on the dash we'd made a twenty minute drive in less than ten. Should have probably been paying closer attention to the speedometer apparently. Hard to focus on that though with Jasper staring at me, his words still ringing in the air around my head. I feel suddenly anxious at being alone in a car with him, more instinct than anything real. The fear washes away nearly as quickly as it came leaving me relaxed enough I don't really react to his next words.

"We won't allow anything to happen to you again either. No matter what direction it comes from." There is a warning there I think, but I'm too relaxed to digest it. He slips from the car taking the feeling with him. Like the prickling in my hand the return of unease almost makes me feel numb. I follow him out of the car and into the house, trying to pull my resolve around me like a bullet proof vest.

**Edward's POV**

Bella's gentle sleeping breaths fill the bedroom, grounding me. I know that Charlie wants to see her, but I won't wake her now. Not after the night she's had. A night both wonderful and sacred, but tainted by the nightmare that had woken her screaming and in torment. Of all the things I'd expected when she'd woken it hadn't been her anger. It had lit the room and blazed from her tired sad eyes. I'd watched her choke it down, nearly gagging on the bitter taste it must have left in her mouth. She would not speak to me about the dream. I'm not certain she even remembered it. The fact that I could not even help her with that had been frustrating. She'd given me no clues with her sleep-talking. In fact she'd been completely silent, seemingly deeply asleep right up until her first scream. It had taken an enormous amount of coaxing just to get her to wake, and even then she'd been confused.

Closing the bedroom door soundlessly, I move down the stairs and reach the living room just in time to see Charlie and Jasper enter the house. Charlie is pale and drawn. Deep lines bracket his tired eyes and pinch his mouth making him appear older and frail. The surgery, the knowledge he otherwise wouldn't have to bear have all taken a toll on what was once a strong man. The hard ball of ice in my gut that had melted last night in the passion and love I'd shared with Bella solidifies once again. I have always respected Bella's Father. Whatever his mistakes he is still worthy of that respect. A good man misled by, and dragged into, the subterfuge that is our existence.

Esme enters the room behind me. I can read her troubled thoughts easily as I greet Charlie with more warmth than I've shown him in weeks. His mind as usual is a faint murmur in comparison to the more easily read thoughts of my family. He's troubled, curious and uneasy regarding his daughter and the conversation he hopes to have with her today.

Smiling gently, Esme holds out a mug of steaming coffee. "Good morning, Charlie. I thought you might like a cup of coffee. It is very damp out this morning."

I don't need to read his mind to see the surprise on his expression turn to one of pleasure as he inhales the smell of the brewed beverage. "Oh. Well, that's very thoughtful of you, thanks." He takes the cup from her hands, and I have to fight the urge to smile at his now awed expression. Esme, pleased to be able to offer something clearly appreciated, is smiling in pleasure, stunning Charlie with her beauty.

He clears his throat, eyes flicking nervously away from her and around the room. "Bella up yet?"

Esme answers before me. "No. Not yet. I was just beginning to prepare her some breakfast though. Have you eaten yet, Charlie?"

"Oh, no. No, I'm fine thanks, Esme. Coffee's good." As though to reiterate that point he takes a large swallow and grins. "Wow, that's good. Julie's been dosing me with herbal teas that taste like bear pi.., er, bad, they uh taste bad." He clears his throat, glancing at me apologetically.

_Has he eaten, Edward? He looks so thin_.

I shake my head at her nonverbal question.

_I called Carlisle. He's finishing up at the hospital, he should be home in an hour. Maybe I should call him back, ask him to come home sooner? He looks so pale. Too pale Edward._

She's right, he does. The air around him smells faintly unwell but I don't detect anything overly dangerous. His health has been slightly precarious since the surgery and Carlisle is keeping a very close eye on him. I decide that an hour won't make much difference and murmur quietly to Esme that it won't be necessary.

"Are you certain I can't tempt you with breakfast? I thought I'd try some eggs, scrambled with toast and bacon for Bella this morning. It's been difficult to tempt her appetite, but I know she enjoys eggs. Perhaps if you ate as well she might be encouraged to eat a little more?"

Charlie again looks slightly awed by Esme who is attempting to be persuasive. She's left him little in the way of an out, not when she's using Bella and her flagging appetite as coercion.

"Uh, yeah. I mean, yes, Esme. If you're certain it isn't too much trouble?" She beams and his mouth drops open a bit.

"Absolutely not. I find I really love to cook. It would give me so much pleasure to make breakfast for you. And like I said, it's been so difficult to get Bella to eat more than a few bites." She gestures for Charlie to follow her into the kitchen. He does, still looking slightly stunned and settles awkwardly at the kitchen table, careful to keep his eyes from following her. A few more sips of coffee seems to brace him and he looks at me, back to the steely eyed version of Chief Swan I'm used to.

"Edward. I hope you all don't mind my dropping by unannounced like this. I thought it might be easier for Bella not to come to the house after yesterday." His mind is replaying the events, as disturbed by her panic attack now as he had been then.

"Don't be silly, Charlie." Esme murmurs, refilling his cup. "You never need an invitation."

Clearing his throat, offering a small embarrassed smile and a muttered thanks, he goes back to looking at me. "Bella's usually such an early riser. I'm surprised she isn't up. Is she okay?"

"Yes, she's fine." I study him for a moment. "She's still having some trouble sleeping. It's taken a toll. I'd prefer not to wake her."

He nods, taking another mouthful of coffee. The silence stretches out awkwardly until he clears his throat again. "Carlisle says you help her a lot with the panic attacks, that you're the only one who really can calm her. I'm...glad she has you."

It obviously isn't an easy admission and I catch the stronger tenor of his thoughts underneath, conflicted as they are. He is glad, but he's also still torn, wondering if my world can ever be for her what any parent would want for their child. Safe, happy. He's still struggling with his human dreams of Bella going off to college, finding someone, getting married, having his grandchildren, being settled and happy. Being normal. His characteristic dreams conflict violently with the new reality he's finally been forced to see. None of that will exist for Bella, and he can't help but wonder if she truly understands what she'll be giving up.

"She will always have me." It's all I can offer him.

"Yeah. I know that." He looks resolved and I realize this visit is a formality. One he feels compelled to make for reasons I can't decipher. He's long since accepted that I will be Bella's choice. That her and I are inevitable, like day falling into night.

The scent of frying bacon begins to fill the air and he turns away from me, offering a smile to Esme. "Smells great, Esme. Just don't tell Carlisle. I don't think bacon is on the preferred healthy diet list he tacked to my fridge."

Movement overhead alerts me to Bella's awakening. Rising from the table I excuse myself and leave the room. I want Bella to know her Father is here and to give her the option of whether or not she'd like to see him this morning. After her nightmare I'd prefer she not be any more stressed or upset. I can feel Charlie's eyes following me out of the room. The trail of his thoughts are still as vague and hard to follow as always, but I'm getting better at reading him. He's hiding something today. About his reasons for being here. He might even be hiding them from himself.

Bella is just coming out of the bathroom when I enter the room, her tired smile and muttered good morning alerting me instantly to the fact that she shouldn't be out of bed.

"Good morning, love." She comes into my arms easily, tilting her head up for a soft kiss. "You look tired, Bella," I say, tracing the purple shadows beneath her eyes. She shrugs, noncommital. Sighing, resisting the urge to take her back to bed and love her back to sleep I tap her chin lightly. "Your Father is here."

"Charlie? Really?"

"Mm, yes. He's downstairs in the kitchen with Esme, she's cooking him breakfast. I think he wants to have the discussion you've been dreading."

She crinkles her nose in dismay. "Think?" she asks skeptically, "or know."

"Know," I reply, offering her a small encouraging smile. "Are you up for it? Because if you're not, he doesn't need to know you're awake."

Rolling her eyes she steps out of my arms to go to the closet searching for clean clothes. "I can't avoid this forever, Edward. You know I can't." She smiles and her eyes dance a little. "Though of course I'd really rather just go back to bed. With you." Something sad and dark changes her playful expression so briefly I barely catch it. Suspecting she's thinking of her nightmare, I move behind her, slipping my arms around her waist. "What should I tell him?" Her voice is soft, tormented. Pulling her back against me, I place a kiss on her shoulder.

"He's past secrets, Bella. You know we will protect him. Tell him what you wish to share."

"Can he handle that, Edward?" Spinning in my arms her expression turns worried. "I mean physically, mentally, can he handle knowing that I plan... to be like you?"

The rhythm of Charlie's heartbeat is nowhere near as strong as I would like it to be but I don't tell her this. Adding more stress to her plate is something I just won't do. Nor will I ask her to carry secrets like burdens weighing her down."He suspects already, love." Brushing a wayward curl from her cheek I search her expression. "Do you want him to know?"

She bites her lip, shaking her head. "I don't know," she sighs. "I've lived so long thinking he couldn't ever know. And now... ?"

Yes now. This new alternate reality we never thought would be. Something we hadn't; couldn't have planned for.

"I think, maybe I'll just try to read him. I guess I know him well enough to figure out what he wants to know, what he doesn't." She shrugs unhappily.

I lay my palm against her cheek gently, smiling and never unsurprised at her intelligence. I might have told her to tell him everything. Let the chips fall where they may. But as usual Bella's sensitivity and insight are correct. Charlie isn't a man who needs to know everything. He can be content with some mystery. What he's seeking now is comfort in the knowledge that whatever Bella's choice, it is her own. Not something I'm pushing her into, or something she doesn't herself understand. "Very wise decision."

Smiling again her eyes search mine. "Are you okay, Edward? With everything..." she blushes, leaving her question unfinished.

She's wearing the shirt I'd worn yesterday, and though I know I shouldn't I can't help but undo several of the buttons revealing a creamy expanse of skin beneath her collarbones. Placing my lips against that softness I drag her close to me before turning my attention to her mouth, kissing her until I've stolen her breath. "Does that answer your question, love?" I ask against her sweet lips. Without waiting for an answer I let go of her, moving to the door. Continuing to hold her is far too tempting, especially now with her chest rising and falling beneath the fabric, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen and moist from my kiss. "Take your time. Charlie is enjoying Esme's company and coffee."

**Charlie's POV**

For someone who doesn't eat or drink, Esme sure makes a mean cup of coffee. And if the smells coming off that stove are any indication she can cook as well. She's kept up a chirpy bird-like chatter while Edward's been gone, conversation that thankfully hasn't had me needing to give much in the way of answers. The occasional grunt of agreement or two. Being around Julie these past few weeks has kind of gotten me used to a woman's way of nattering, so that instead of being overwhelmed it's kind of comforting. Bella isn't one for nattering but Renee was, a lot of females are come to think of it. There is something deeply relaxing about it and I find myself fighting the warm homey feeling of it all. Focusing on the shiny spotless appliances helps to remind me how less than homey this all is. Props. Useful with Bella in the house, but still just props.

It's awful distracting though the way Esme is so beautiful. She's the kind of woman a man ends up doing all kinds of stupid things for, just in the hopes of getting one of those smiles turned their way. She certainly isn't the kind of woman you say no to. Which is why I'm sitting here in this perfect kitchen that looks like it came straight out of one of those home decorating shows Bella'd watch on TV every now. About to eat a breakfast I don't want, complete with a fruit bowl overflowing with stuff I don't even recognize, never mind normally stuff down my gullet.

"More coffee, Charlie?" Her voice sounds like singing and I'm nodding before I can help myself. If I keep it up I'll be sloshing out of here with a mean case of caffeine jitters. With my plans for later and all, that isn't my smartest move. When I look up from watching her refill my cup, Edward is back, sitting in the chair across from me like he'd never left. Must be some kind of testimony to my getting used to the weirdness because I don't even jump though he'd never made a damn sound.

"Bella is awake, she'll be down shortly."

I wonder, not for the first time, where she sleeps. The house is big enough to have dozens of spare rooms. I'm not a born yesterday idiot though. I doubt she's in one of them. Remembering that he can get in my head I watch his face for some sign that he knows what I'm thinking. There isn't one really, but I think his eyes look a little different, like he's amused maybe. A normal seventeen year old kid would be squirming in his seat if he knew where my head was, not him. He doesn't fidget, just sits unnaturally still with his hands resting clasped on the table top. His eyes are direct but non-confrontational. I force down a bite of one of the less obscure looking fruit cubes, not even trying to attempt his level of quiet.

"The panic attacks Bella's been having. Carlisle said they're getting better?"

He nods, leaning forward a bit. "Yes. She's very strong as you know."

"She is strong, always has been," I allow, though I still can't help but wonder if any woman is ever really strong enough to get over something like this. What it will mean for her in the future. The stupid cube of fruit sticks in my throat and the gulp of coffee meant to wash it down burns a hole in the roof of my mouth.

Edward suddenly leans forward even more, his expression intense. "She will be okay, Charlie." His eyes rake over mine, searching. I don't give him anything to find, still I'm damn grateful when Bella walks in the room and he looks at her instead of me.

She looks tired. It's the first thought that comes to my mind, rapidly followed with a - yeah, damn right I know she's not sleeping in a guest room. They don't touch each other but they might as well. It's all over her face, the way she looks at him, the small smile she gives him when he stands and gives her the chair he was sitting in.

I'd noticed lately that she often looked at him like she couldn't quite believe he was there. Like she expected him to vanish if she so much as blinked. A sort of quiet desperation that had made me wonder what was going on between them. And not just her. I'd seen him look at her a few times like he was afraid he'd break her if he did or said the wrong thing. Like he could see her slipping away, but helpless as to what he needed to do about it. They're not looking at each other that way anymore. Something has been resolved in a big way and they are back to looking at each other the way they used to. Like the world around them doesn't really exist, just them.

"I have a few things I need to look after, Bella. I'll just be upstairs if you need me." He nods at me, "Charlie." I wonder if I'm imagining the warning look I see in his eyes. Probably not. He'd want me not to upset her and though it rankles my nerves to think he thought I might, I can understand his protectiveness. Hell, it's the one and only thing I do understand about him, the one thing he and I have in common. He ghosts his fingers one time down her cheek before he leaves, an expression on his face so tender that I have to look away.

Esme sets two plates down in front of us and fills a glass with orange juice for Bella. "There's more coffee, Charlie. Please help yourself." She places a pale perfect hand on Bella's head, smoothing the hair from crown to nape in a gentle loving motherly way. Her expression is tender, reminding me of Renee and my own Mother, the woman Bella resembles. The woman she'd never really gotten to know. She glides out of the room and Bella holds her hand out to me.

She's too thin, more pale even than normal. The shadows under her eyes confirm that she's having those nightmares I suspected. The eyes above the shadows are clear though. Bright and warm and more at ease than I've seen them in weeks. Her hand in mine is solid and the squeeze she presses against my fingers tells me she's stronger than she looks. As usual she's only worried about me.

"Dad, you look tired. Should you even be out right now?"

Taking my hand back I scoop up a fork full of eggs I don't want and shovel them in with a grin, hoping she'll eat if I do. I can see why Esme sounded worried about Bella not eating. "I was starting to grow roots, Bells. Needed to get out for a bit." She doesn't look convinced so I smile bigger. "Your Aunt Julie's driving me nuts. I figured an hour out of the house would do us both good." She smiles back this time, picking up a piece of bacon and taking a half-hearted nibble. The eggs are pretty good, light and fluffy. It's been awhile since I had anything that didn't taste like horse feed so I take another bite.

"Wow, this is really good!" I must sound surprised because Bella actually smiles for real this time.

"Food Network," she offers. "Edward can cook too."

We eat in silence for a bit, Bella mostly going through the motions for show. Not a lot of food passes her actual lips. Finally I set down my fork, not feeling up to anymore myself and study her quietly. She blushes a bit under my scrutiny. Another new thing today. I haven't seen her do that since before...I tamp that thought down fast. I have to keep my head focused on the present. Not just for my own sanity, but because I can't afford to let anything I have planned slip out in my thoughts.

"You look a little better today, Bells." I say softly. The blush gets bigger. As if I needed more proof that she's made up her mind that look would have given it. But then I guess it's time to be honest with myself. I'm not here to find out whether she's made her choice. I already knew she had. Despite the blush she holds my eyes.

"I am."

Nodding, I push the plate away and look outside. Typical Forks day. Gray and overcast. "Why don't you grab a jacket," I suggest. "Take a little walk outside with me." She seems to automatically glance in the direction of the stairs and I realize Edward wouldn't be big on letting her go too far. "We'll stay close, just in the gardens."

The day is still just as damp as it was when I arrived. Bella huddles a little farther in her unfamiliar jacket as we step outside.

"Nice jacket, is it new?" I hear myself ask the inane question and wonder why I'm stalling the inevitable.

"Alice," she mutters, rolling her eyes. Bella's grumbled enough about Alice's determination to turn her into a dress up doll that I don't need her to explain. Besides, it's just another confirmation of how much she's loved and cared for here in this house. By the... family that lives in it.

I clear my throat wondering how to start. Trying to separate what I need to say from what I should and can. She beats me to the punch.

"I know you've had a lot to... digest...lately." Her small hand flits in the air around the word digest. "I'd hoped that you'd never find out about any of this...stuff." Her hand flits again and I can see the irritation spark in her eyes and on her face as she searches for words. Since we're as alone as we're going to be I decide it's time to just be blunt. No more pussy-footing around the bush. A spade is a spade no matter how many ways you find to not call it one.

A small wrought iron bench, painted white sits surrounded by green lush plants that no doubt flower like crazy in the spring. It's dry enough so I sit down and gesture for her to join me. With a deep sigh I stare at my clasped hands, surprised at how deep the creases have grown around my knuckles. "Carlisle's explained a lot of it. I understand why it needs to be a secret, but I gotta tell ya Bells. It doesn't sit real great knowing you were just going to what? Up and disappear without a trace? Fake your own death?" My throat slams shut at the thought. No matter what, this is better. Knowing the truth, as fantastic as it is, is still a million times better than either of those options.

"I don't know what we would have done, Dad." She whispers the words and her hand steals out to grab one of mine. "I'd like to think Edward and I could have come up with something better than that."

We're quiet for a little longer. "Guess that doesn't matter now that I know, does it?" I squeeze her hand gently, watching her hair fall in her face as she stares at our hands.

When she looks back up her eyes are sad but determined. "I know what I'm doing, Dad. I know what I'm giving up, what I'm getting in return."

"Bella..."

"Dad." She squeezes my hand harder. "You_ have_ to trust me. _I know_ what I'm doing."

"You know this is crazy right?" I manage a laugh. "I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and it's all going to be back to normal. This kind of stuff..." I gesture around me. "It doesn't exist in my world."

A small secret smile flashes across her face making her look pretty and a thousand years old all at the same time. "It does in mine," she replies with a little amused shake of her head.

Sighing, knowing she probably wouldn't tell me the story behind whatever that's about even if I asked, I let go of her hand and lean back against the cold metal bench. "So what happens then? I mean, where will you guys go? What will you do?"

Jamming her hands in her pockets she looks at me. I can see her choosing her words carefully. "So much has changed, I'm not really sure right now." The sadness comes back, seems to weigh her head down so she can't hold it up as erect as it was. She scuffs her feet in the wet grass, bites her lip and just like that she's Bella my little girl again. Awkward and uncertain.

"Are you still planning on getting married? The whole shindig wedding and all?" I'm not surprised when she goes pale at my question. She did that before too.

"We're still getting married, Dad. I know that for certain. It's what Edward and I want, to be husband and wife." She shrugs. "I don't know about the plans though. I just don't think I feel...up to the whole wedding dress, walking down the aisle in front of everyone thing." Her sigh is so soft I barely hear it. "So much has changed," she whispers. She seems to be saying it to herself more than to me.

"And after? What then, Bells?"

"What are you asking, Dad? What do you want me to tell you? Everything?" She's looking at me again, eyes searching my face. When I don't answer she says fiercely. "Whatever happens, I won't just disappear. I promise you that. I won't leave, or let you think I'm dead. I'll tell you what I can and you'll know the truth, no matter what anyone else thinks."

"What truth?" I can't quite keep the anger or frustration out of my voice.

"That I'm _happy_," she pleads, her voice tight. "That I'm where I want to be. That I'm okay. That I'm safe." Her expression is as intense as Edward's was in the kitchen when he'd told me she would be okay. "You'll know I made _my_ choice and that I'm happy, Dad. Isn't that enough?"

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with wet cold air and realize it is. It is enough. She's made her choice and no matter what stupid tricks my brain wants to play making me think she's a child, she isn't. She's a grown woman now, and since she's never really acted like a child you wouldn't think that would sit so hard on my chest. I flex my aching arm and nod.

"Yeah, it's enough, Bells. It's enough." I watch her tense shoulders relax and I smile at her, hoping to relax her more. She doesn't need to be worried about me, not now, not ever. "Listen, kid. I just want you to know something. I am okay with your choice. Edward is a good... man." So much for calling a spade a spade I think to myself ruefully as I watch a tinge of amusement color her cheeks. "Whatever else he is, I do know that underneath he's good. And I know that he loves you."

She looks towards the house and I wonder if he's listening. "We love each other," she amends.

"Just don't forget, l love you too." Like sunshine her smile is radiant.

"I know, Dad."

I get to my feet stiffly and hold my arms out to her. We've never been big on hugging, but I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight for a long time. Trying, I guess, to stuff a lifetime into a minute. Useless tears burn behind my eyelids as I drag in the smell of her hair, a thousand memories flipping through my head. I know I have to let her go in more ways than one. So somehow I make my arms fall away from her before I start bawling like a little kid. Yeah that'd be smooth Charlie. You got what you came for don't make an ass of yourself.

"I should go, Bells." My words say one thing but my arms haven't quite gotten the hint. I'm still holding her shoulders. "Jules will be getting antsy. She's probably got some new herbal remedy she wants me to guinea pig, boiling away on the stove." I can hear my voice creaking over the forced attempt at making a joke. Pushing my hands off she hugs me again. I can feel tiny fine tremors running over her.

"I love you too, Dad. You know that right?"

"Yeah." I hug her for a minute more, listening to her sniffle as she loses the battle with her own emotions. I'm hanging on to mine by a thread, sniffling a little too. Her hair is like cold silk when I kiss the top of her head real quick. I find myself trying to remember how old she was when she quit wearing it in ponytails before I force myself to step away.

"I'll walk you to your car," she offers, blinking away tears.

"Nah, go inside Bells, its cold and I'm good." Sharper little darts of pain skip up and down my chest and arm. I got a feeling I'm running a little low on time. One last quick look at her face and I spin on my heels heading around the house.

"I'll talk to you soon, Dad. Okay?"

Raising just a hand in answer, I don't look back. I have to let her go. I know that. She was my little girl but she belongs with him now. I'm okay with it, I've made my peace, but God damn it hurts more than anything has ever hurt in my life.

**Edward's POV**

I watch from the window of Carlisle's office as Charlie embraces Bella. Holds onto her like a man clinging to something about to be ripped away from him. When he lets her go, Jasper hisses beside me, closing his eyes with a small grunt. I don't need him to tell me that Charlie's heart is breaking. His thoughts aren't any clearer than they normally are, but I know that letting Bella go is painful for him. He is a loving Father, handing his only child into a world both unknown and terrifying. A world that goes against the natural in every way.

"Jasper. Go offer to drive Charlie home. He'll refuse," I say quietly, certainly." Let him. Then stay close. Follow him." Bella is standing still in the garden. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her middle. Even from here my vision is perfect. I can see the crystal drops of her tears tremble on her lashes, slide down her cheek.

"You don't think he's going home." Jasper says quietly. An observation not a question. I answer him anyway.

"No. He's not planning on going home." I turn away from the window to face him, knowing my eyes are black. I am not surprised his are as well.

"You still think he knows where Jacob Black is, don't you."

"Yes, and if I'm right, we need to be ready. Take your phone. Text me as soon as you know anything. I'm going to keep it on silent. Bella isn't to know anything." Jasper nods, turning toward the door.

"And Jasper," I say quietly, my gaze turned back to Bella. "Don't lose him."


	31. Chapter 31

A/N Just a quick note. I'm continuing to portray Bella's emotions and reactions to what's happened as realistically as possible. Like the grieving process there are certain stages to healing for any victim of a violent crime. Anger is one I feel often gets overlooked in stories of a similiar nature, even though it tends to be one of the most important in terms of moving on and finding peace.

Special thanks and much love to Irishtwimom, Cella72 & especially Bobabs for allowing me to cry on their shoulders through the writing process of this chapter. It hurt like hell but I did it! In celebration, I'm handing out Carlisle clones for everyone. Of course I'm keeping the original for myself. ;) Lol.

Thanks to Octoberland for her amazing beta skills.

* * *

Chapter 31 All Paths Lead to...?

**Bella's POV**

It happens so fast I don't have time to wrap my mind around it. After Charlie vanishes around the corner I know I'm not up for anymore company. I need some time to myself. A few minutes to gather back all the odd disjointed pieces of me that feel all jagged and dislocated after our conversation. So I walk the garden, not noticing the dozens of lush plants or pretty flowers that Esme has tended into blooming perfect health. I barely notice my own feet. Not a smart move on my part of course. One single untied shoe lace and I trip, landing in a heap beside a small pile of leaves and other disgusting garden debris. The smell of wet and rot is thick in my nose and throat, cloying up my airway. Any time I feel as though I can't breathe it happens. Today certainly isn't an exception. The panic slams my chest like a two ton truck, pressing my heart into a sandwiched desperate gallop that sounds like helicopter rotor blades whipping through the air. Air that is suddenly too thick to breathe and still full of the compost smell that kicks nausea into high gear. Because panic isn't enough. Fear to the point of stroke isn't enough. Not for me. I feel the need to add repulsive wretching to the entire mess.

Choking back the urge to vomit all over Esme's perfect pink miniature roses I curl my knees under me and press my grass and mud smeared hands to thighs, begin the practised breathe swallow routine that I've grown to hate.

I wonder if this will ever end. If I'm ever going to get to the point where I'll be okay, like the girl I used to be. My heart races faster. Breathe swallow isn't working. Little prickling darts that remind me of pins and needles in a limb falling asleep tingle the corners of my eyes and mouth. Esme's garden turns gray, as bleached of vibrancy and warmth as the sky above my head.

"Bella."

Someone is saying my name. I have no idea who it is. My chest aches like a vise has been clamped around me. I'm freezing but I can smell my own sweat, feel it pooling under my arms, cold and unpleasant. Trickling itchy beads slide down my back. I'm miserable and terrified and..._pissed off._

"Bella. Listen to me. Listen to the sound of my voice. You're safe. Control your breathing." The voice is closer. I don't recognize it because my ears are ringing and I've squeezed my eyes shut so tight that when I open them nothing wants to focus. Or maybe I'm crying. I can't tell. I'm biting my lip hard enough that if I don't quit I'm about to break the skin. Stupid. You can't bleed around vampires.

The berating thought relaxes the vice just enough I can suck in some badly needed air. My eyes finally focus and I can see Carlisle, standing about 10 feet away. He's holding his hand out, but not to me. It's held so his palm is facing outwards in a totally different direction. My foggy oxygen deprived mind conjures up images of my old elementary school crossing guard with his bright neon orange and yellow vest. The vest is the only color anywhere. Everything else stays gray, stark, washed out like my soul. I can't do this anymore. I don't want to do this anymore.

"Slow it down, Bella. It's okay."

The vest fades but so does everything else. I wonder if I'm going to pass out, or die. It feels like either is way more than just possible. Or possibly I'm just finally going crazy, cracking once and for all. The eerie vision of a gorgeous white sand beach wavers over everything with me standing in the center, skin sparkling and white.

The hallucination shoves at me, prickles the edges of my awareness the same way the panic attack prickles my face and now my fingers. No not a hallucination. A dream. The same dream I'd had last night.

My eyes are closed again. Why do I keep closing them? Open I can see there is nothing sparkly about anything. Just gray dismal plants with gray grass and dirt, and my pale gray hands pressed to my jeans.

Something that sounds oddly like a hissing snake penetrates the fog of my fear. Carlisle's lips look they're moving and he's holding his hand out more forcefully. Stop. I know that hand signal even without an orange vest.

"It's okay."

No it isn't. It isn't okay. I'm biting my lip again, trying not to scream. I can feel myself shaking, but more than that I can feel...anger. It's so hot, chasing away the cold sweat and flushing me with heat. Like I'm standing next to a fire.

_Fire._

Sand and fire don't go together. One negates the other, sand can't burn. It can't. It can't. And if it could it couldn't burn for infinity... It can't. Can it?

"Bella. You need to breathe. Are you listening? It's okay, just breathe." Carlisle's voice sounds patronizing and annoying. I want him to shut-up. The fire gets hotter until the sand starts to melt. "Open your eyes, Bella. I need you to focus on me."

I didn't mean to close them again, did I? My hands aren't laying flat on my thighs anymore. Now they're curled up like fists. White fists against blue denim. Without the weight of gray I manage a new breath.

"It's okay."

Suddenly I'm on my feet though I don't know how. I can't even feel my legs but they hold me up as I glare at Carlisle. "No. It. Is. Not. Okay." I don't recognize the snarl but I can feel every word tear from my throat as I not so much scream as hurl each word at him, proof that it is me saying the words. The vice loosens some more as I wrap myself around the fire that now burns only in my head and not on some imaginary beach in my mind. Outside of the anger a horrified part of me watches something I don't recognize spew hate at someone I love.

"It. Is. Not. Fucking. Okay! That's bullshit, nothing is okay! Don't tell me it is, don't fucking tell me that anymore." Birds squawk and take off out of the trees over my head. Every word is delivered with every ounce of volume I'm capable of, tearing my throat to shreds with every stressed vowel and consonant. The fire in my mind burns hotter until now everything I see is painted in oranges and reds and yellows, leaping and spiking, filling me with heat.

Carlisle is quiet behind the screen of my leaping flame colored vision. His expression is gentle. If he's angry with my outburst he isn't showing it. I should feel bad for yelling at him, for swearing, but I don't. It feels good. The anger feels so good. So much better than panic and fear so I hold it tighter to me, wrap the fire around and around my body like a cloak so nothing can touch me.

"_You have to care, Bella. If you let it burn it will destroy everything you love."_

The voice in my head is pleading, begging, more echoes of a dream I don't, can't, _won't_ remember. I don't care if it burns everything. I want it to burn everything. Most of all me.

"I'm sorry, Bella. You're right. It isn't okay." Carlisle says, yanking me away from the images in my head and back to Esme's flame decorated garden. I can taste smoke in my mouth, just like that night in the circle. The night Sam took me from the hospital. The night Edward walked through flames for me.

"_He walked through fire for you, Bella. What is joined can never be undone."_

"I don't mean to sound condescending. None of this is okay. But right now I need you to focus okay? I want you to breathe. You're hyperventilating. I know your chest feels tight, but if you just relax a little and take some deep breaths it will get better."

"It won't get better," I wail, shaking my head at him. "Does this look like it's better to you? Do I look like I'm okay?" My knees are trembling threatening to buckle, to take me down to the ground where I'll be weak and vulnerable and helpless.

"_Together you are stronger. Unbreakable."_

The voice in my head sounds so certain, so sure. More of the dream is coming back to me now, pieces with no rhyme or reason flickering like a bad reel of 1930's cinematography. If I could grab the flames in my head and hold them in my hands I'd let the flesh melt right off my palms and love it. I set this whole damn garden on fire, let what happens happen.

"It is getting better, Bella." Carlisle's voice is calm, soothing away some of the flames, insistent though, trying to make me see reason. He's right, a part of me knows he is. Last night, before the dream everything had been so perfect. But the dream, the dream is ruining everything. Because the dream doesn't want me to hold onto the fire and the fire is the one thing keeping me from falling apart again, from giving in to the panic and fear. While it burns I can breathe.

If we're unbreakable why can't I let it burn?

"Every day it gets better. This is only your second panic attack in over 48 hours and you're controlling it. You're coming out of them so much faster now. You just have to remember to breathe the way I showed you. Easy and slow. You're safe remember. Nothing can hurt you here. You're safe, loved and protected and cared for ..."

It's the wrong thing to say. Until his very last sentence I'd felt the flames dying down, felt the panic and the vice around my chest easing in his hypnotic voice. This was Carlisle. I believed him. Right up until he said I was loved, protected, cared for. It was too close. Too close to how I used to see Jacob. He'd been my light in the dark, my heat in the cold, my safe island in a sea of desolation and heartbreak when I'd been cast adrift from my whole world. How many times had he said he would never hurt me? Ten times, twenty, a hundred? I'd believed in him with every inch of my heart and soul and mind so how could he do this to me. How could he?

"You don't know, so shut-up. Just fucking shut-up." I'm sobbing now, my throat hurts from yelling and the flames are burning me up from the inside out, beautiful with heat and anger. I yank my jacket off with shaking hands, drop it to the ground and grab my hair in my fists.

"You're lying," I yell at Carlisle feeling my throat tear, hearing the screech of vocal chords that have been abraded. I yell it at him but he's not who I see now. All I see now is Jacob, his face superimposed over Carlisle's. I haven't gone insane. I know he's not really here, but not for one second does it stop the toxic overload of rage pounding out of my over-heated skin. This is too much it has to go somewhere or it's going to burn me alive. I try to choke it back but it won't go. I try to hold it in but it explodes. I try to swallow it down like I did last night but I'm too full of it and there is nowhere for it to go. My feet are moving in jerky steps until I'm right up to him. My hands shove at his chest trying to push him back. Flail at him, punch at him. It's Carlisle but it isn't, and it's like pushing on a cement wall but I don't care. I'm on fire and out of control and someone needs to hurt for what happened to me, someone needs to, someone else, please...

"You lied. You fucker you lied to me. You said you loved me but you never did. Why would you hurt me so bad if you loved me?" All the air in my lungs, what little I had, is gone. I sag like a broken doll as the fire goes out like it never existed leaving me cold and desolate. My head hits Carlisle's chest while my hands cling to his jacket. Sobbing, soaking his clean pressed expensive perfect shirt in tears, my knees finally buckle. "You lied, Jacob. You swore you'd never hurt me, you swore you never would. You swore." Carlisle's arms, like solid marble columns secure me, hold me.

"He lied to me, Carlisle," I whisper through the tears that won't stop, through the pain that twists all my insides into screaming knots. He picks me up the way Charlie would have when I was a little girl, crying over something inane and petty that had felt then like the end of my world. His lips are ice cold, but pressed against the top of my head it's the exact same kind of kiss Charlie would have given me. I can't share this with Charlie. I don't think he's strong enough right now to see me this broken. I had to be strong while he was here. I had to get him to believe that I was okay. I had to lie so he'd be okay. I don't have to lie to Carlisle.

"He swore he'd never hurt me," I whisper again, my face pressed as hard as I can against his chest, "but he did."

Carlisle's cold arms tighten around me. "I know, sweetheart. I know," he replies and a knot deep down and hard as a rock loosens just a little.

**Edward's POV**

I'd stood at the window in Carlisle's office watching Bella walk around the gardens. I'd thought to give her a moment alone; her body signals had certainly indicated that she wanted that moment. Now standing here watching her fight and lose the battle with a massive panic attack, I can't help but wonder if I could have stopped this from happening.

Carlisle is keeping his hand up, urging me to stay back and though it goes against every ingrained protective instinct in me, his thoughts pummel me with warnings. He'd just gotten home and her accelerated heartbeat had called to him the same as it had called to me. Closer to her than I was, he'd reached her first and now I can only stand and watch him try to calm her. She isn't rational, nor is she responding.

"Carlisle," I hiss, taking a step towards her. Her heart sounds as though it's going to explode out of her chest, her breathing nothing more than sporadic gasps taken way to fast to be useful.

_Edward, no. She's too far in. Stay calm and stay where you are. Give her a minute_.

A hand closes over my wrist and I look down to see Esme's fingers tighten in restraint. Her expression is sad but firm, her whispered words adamant. "Let Carlisle help her Edward. She needs a father now, you understand? She couldn't show this to Charlie. She has to hide it to protect him but it's too much, she's hurting too much and she's trying to let go."

I growl and take another step. I'm stronger than Esme. I could easily tear from her hold, yet a part of me knows she's right. This panic attack is violent in intensity and I'm terrified of making it worse. Still I can't stand not to try to help her. It's Bella's next action that stops me in my tracks rather than Esme's attempt at restraint.

"No. It. Is. Not. Okay. It's not. It's. Not. Fucking. Okay." It's not the curse word that stuns me though in truth I've never heard her swear before. It's the pure anger and rage pouring from not only her words but straight from every tight line in her body. Her eyes spark and instantly I'm taken back to last night when she'd woken from her nightmare. The look is the same in every way, only this time she can't fight it back. My arms ache to hold her. Only Carlisle's thoughts keep my feet anchored to the ground.

_This is good, Edward. Her anger is good. It's part of the healing process son. She needs to feel this. Let her feel this. I'm a safe target for her, a part of her knows that. Don't force her to pull this back, it's more than she can carry._

When she lunges at Carlisle in her anger and tries to pummel his chest my first reaction is to protect her. She can't hurt him but she can hurt herself badly. Again Esme tries to stop me while Carlisle attempts to reason with me in his mind. Neither would have worked at that point if it were not for Emmett. His steel vice like grip around my waist accomplishes what neither reason nor pleas could.

_I won't let her hurt herself, Edward. She has to do this. It isn't me she's striking out at._

Carlisle's is hurting for her and combined with Emmett's restraining hold it keeps me from stopping what a part of me recognizes she needs. He moves his body in ways that compensate for hers, partially deflecting each blow of her tiny fragile fists without denying her the satisfaction of some impact. When she sags against him, transitioning from rage to helpless sad pain, the final strand that has held me together through this breaks. My shoulders heave and if I wanted to Emmett's arms would be snapped off at his shoulders. Full of agonized helpless pain I hear her sob the words that finally solidify what I hadn't realized wasn't solid.

"You lied, Jacob. You swore you'd never hurt me, you swore you never would. You swore." She sags against Carlisle while my eyes close knowing I've failed her. Allowing him to breathe any part of her air, to exist in the same world as her has been inexcusable. I should have finished this weeks ago.

"He swore he'd never hurt me, but he did."

_Yes he did, my love, my angel, the one and only reason I have to walk this earth. And before this very day fades into the next, Jacob Black will pay for that broken vow with his life. Blood for blood, pain for pain. A life for her broken shattered heart_.

**Charlie's POV**

I know I have a tail the second I hit the main road. I can't see him, but I know he's there. Call it instinct, call it cop radar. Or call it what it really is. Knowing exactly what I'm up against. Knowing Edward Cullen.

It won't be him following me. He won't leave Bella, especially not after my visit with her. She'll need him and no matter what he'll put her first. Exactly how it should be. No, it won't be him, but he'll be keeping damn close tabs. Most likely my tail is my night shadow and early morning chauffeur. Jasper. Smart, scary and nearly as dangerous as his brother. Nearly because nothing is as dangerous as a man protecting his mate. Unless it's a man protecting his child.

7:45 am. The radio announcer drones the time, then the weather. He's not a morning person apparently. I stop for coffee I don't plan on drinking, make small talk with the girl at the cash register, just like I would any morning. I drive to the station, chat with the guys, laugh with the dispatchers, flirt a little with the new cute receptionist. A day in the life. I never spot my tail.

At 8:20 I pull into Forks one and only Mechanic Shop. Tim Gyverson meets me at the door, offers me another cup of coffee. Standing outside, right in plain view I raise my voice just a little. The guys in the garage are running some equipment that makes a small racket, perfect excuse for talking a little loud. Tim plays the part perfectly, almost as though I've coached him though I hardly need to. Tim's as predictable as Fork's weather and after twenty odd years of both him being the station's main mechanic, not to mention a friend, I've got him pegged.

"Join me for a cup a sludge, you look like you could use something a little high octane this morning." He holds up a styrofoam cup full of thick black coffee that looks identical to the moniker it's been given. Tim's wife helps run the shop, keeping it as fine tuned as the cars they work on. But the poor girl can't make a cup of coffee to save her life. It certainly wouldn't match Esme's coffee, and though I sure as hell don't need anymore caffeine this all just plays into my plans.

"Yeah, suppose I could. Car won't take more than what? Hour, hour and a half?"

"Bout that, yeah. Provided that damn transmission of yours isn't acting up that is. You need to get that pathetic police budget hoisted up a notch or two, Charlie. Time to replace some of them chariots."

Laughing, I slap him on the back companionably, all while making an effort to keep my focus from drifting. Out of the corner of my eye I can see an unfamiliar vehicle sidle to a slow crawl at the corner. "Come on," I say, laughing a little louder. _See all's good here, just me, getting a tune-up, yukking it up with a friend, killing time_. "You can show me that 65 chevy you've been making love to for the last 6 months. Gotta be getting close to you making an honest car out of it doesn't it?"

Tim snorts but gamely moves to the shop door a look of eagerness flashing across his homely features. "Don't let my wife hear you talking like that, she's already about to divorce me over how much time I spend on it."

Inside the smell of motor oil, grease and gas mingle with the pungent smells of sweaty men and rubber tires. I follow Tim to the car, make nice grunting hums of approval when needed, try hard not to be obvious about how much I'm looking out the grubby garage door windows. Ten minutes later I'm out the back door, a set of keys to a slightly beat up black Ford Escalade in my hand. Tim follows unlocking the heavy padlock on the equally heavy chain link fence seperating his property from the abandoned set of garages behind it.

"You're gonna want to be careful, Charlie. Nasty set of potholes at the end of this driveway, snap the front axle clean off if you hit em." He scratches his head regarding me thoughtfully. "Sure you don't just want to go through the garage, only take a minute to back up those cars."

"And give you a reason to shuffle my car to the back of the pile? Nah, don't think so. Don't worry, I won't damage the truck, Tim." I keep my voice light as I start the engine but at the same time fix him with a harder patent Chief Swan look. "Just remember what I told you. Anyone asks, you don't know where I went."

Rolling his eyes he tugs the gate open wide. "Well, that there is pretty much a given Charlie, cause I don't"

"Tell anyone asking I took that shit-box Taurus you had."

"Got rid of that one a month ago, folks around her know that."

"Not anyone who'll be asking, Tim." Foot on the gas I ease the Escalade out the opening, glancing in my rear view and seeing that the angle is exactly how I'd remembered it. No one looking from the front of the shop could see back here. On top of that the drains at the edge of each back garage door have drained any water puddles left from last nights downpours. I'm not leaving even the slightest of tracks.

"This some kind of cop business?" Tim asks a gleam of excitement at being involved lighting up his bland features.

Shrugging and throwing in a wink for good measure I steer the vehicle down the alley. Tim being Tim shakes his head with a grin, closes and locks the gate, and disappears back into the shop before I can even lose him in my rear view vision.

I avoid the potholes, pull out onto the abandoned logging road and head west breathing a sigh of relief when I see nothing out of the ordinary. I've bought myself a little time. I'd be a fool to think Jasper's going to sit outside for an hour and a half before he gets suspicious. Luckily for me, I don't need an hour and a half. I need 10 minutes. That's all. Just ten minutes.

**Edward's POV**

_Give her a few minutes, son. Let her have a little time to clear her head._

Carlisle's words still ring in my ears. It's been ten minutes. Ten minutes of staring at her, watching her sit nearly motionless on the bench in the garden, her expression distant while she stares out at nothing in particular. Esme had taken her a blanket and a cup of chamomile tea. The blanket lays on her lap and the tea is clutched in her hands though she hasn't taken a drink yet. Ten minutes is enough. It's all I can stand anyway.

I cross the distance slowly, not wanting to startle her. Crouch before her and wrap my hands gently around hers where they clasp the mug. The contents are still warm enough to steam. She doesn't look at me and her eyes remain slightly unfocused when she speaks.

"What must you think about me right now?" Soft wisps of hair shift around her face when she shakes her head a tiny bit.

I squeeze her hands gently but firmly. "Bella, look at me please." She closes her eyes in response making me ache. "Please," I repeat. A shaky sigh escapes her mouth, her eyes open slowly, red rimmed and gorgeous even as sad as they are. "I think you amaze me," I say quietly. "I think you are the strongest person I've ever met."

"Strong?" She snorts incredulously. "You think I'm strong for throwing a fit, for having the mother of all panic attacks and freaking out on Carlisle? Strong?"

"Yes," I reply adamantly. "Bella, I know what you've been through. I've seen it, felt it. I've witnessed countless numbers of people fall apart for less."

"And that makes me strong how exactly?"

Smiling at the genuine curiosity I hear underneath the sarcasm in her tone, I run my fingers over the backs of her hands. Tiny new bruises are beginning to show around her thumbs and at the base of her pinkie fingers. I can't help but cringe slightly soothing myself with the knowledge of how much worse she could have hurt herself in her anger. My voice when I answer carries a mingled note of that fear, my own pain at seeing her hurting so badly and overwhelming pride that this amazing creature has committed herself to me and me alone.

"You face your demons head on, Bella, and you come out swinging." I caress her hands gently, running my thumbs over the pale blue marks beginning to mottle her soft skin. Offering her a crooked grin hoping to bring some small amount of light back into her sad eyes, I chuckle lightly. "One could hope that you wouldn't choose the closest thing you could find to a brick wall however." I tap my pinkie against hers in illustration hoping she'll smile for me. Instead her eyes lose focus and she looks away again.

"I don't know what happened," she whispers bleakly. "One minute it was just a panic attack and the next..." Her jaw clenches hard enough to crack her teeth together while a shiver works its way over her body. Looking back at me her expression changes again from bleak to one of confusion. "I keep thinking about the dream I had last night, only thinking isn't exactly right because I can't _really_ remember it. It's just bits and pieces that I can't put together in order. But that's what I was thinking about right before I..." She blushes, looks away again taking her thoughts and her expressions, turning them to the open air where I can't read them.

Afraid to push my question comes out hesitant. "Will you tell me what you do remember?" Again I see the look in her eyes right before she'd lashed out at Carlisle, and I match it to the identical one she'd worn last night when I'd first dragged her from her dream.

Her eyes flit to mine, nervous and apologetic. "I don't know," she murmurs.

"Just tell me what you can."

I can feel her spine stiffen slightly as she exhales in a forced manner. Looking down she entwines our pinkie fingers so that I can feel the heat the mug of tea has imparted to her flesh. A direct contrast to the icy feel of the backs resting beneath my palms.

"We were on a beach, alone, just the two of us." When her eyes dart up to mine the anxious look pulls at my heart. "I was like you," she whispers. Her tone matches the set of her features. One of sadness, longing, nervousness about my reaction to such a statement. I hold her eyes with the force of my own and carefully pry the fingers of one of her hands free from the tight grip she has on the cup. Raising it to my mouth, I press the cold pale knuckles to my mouth, kissing them hard.

"Soon, my Bella. Soon." Something inside her expression eases slightly at my promise. Nodding she continues, less hesitant now, her gaze turning inward to a scene I can only try to visualize.

"I think we were running, or maybe it was only me, but I..." Pausing she bites her lip while a frown creases her brow, one of concentration and frustration. "I'm not sure." She tightens her pinkie around mine with a small smile. "I know I was happy." The frown comes back taking that small brief light away. "Then the sand was... burning." Again she looks apologetic. "I know that sounds dumb, but it was."

"Burning how?" I ask, gently prodding at the block in her memory.

"Like on fire, only there wasn't any wood or anything that could burn. Just the sand." Her brow furrows deeper, a tiny V of indignation and stubbornness. "No, not just the sand. Shapes in the sand. Circles."

Darts of unease walk down my spine. "Circles?"

"Circles," she responds still with that inward look. Luckily for me because I know my expression has turned dark. Coincidence? She did stand in a circle of fire, why wouldn't her dreams take her back there. The human psyche does amazing masochistic things in its efforts to heal its wounds. "Not just circles." I'm still holding the hand I'd kissed and she tugs it free now pressing it to her necklace. "Oh, not just circles, one like this too, like my necklace. A sideways eight. Infinity. Both of them burning."

She falls quiet and I let her stay that way, watching her try to sort through the maze of her thoughts, watching her. It takes an enormous amount of will power not to try to encourage her to try and open her mind to me. What I wouldn't give to see what she sees. It would be the only way I could tell for sure if the dream was hers alone or the interference of someone else. Someone who would be wise to stay out of her head lest he find his fate intermingling with his son's.

Suddenly Bella slumps back against the bench, her eyes falling closed. "I don't know, that's all I can see, Edward. The harder I try to look the more it slips away. All I know is I felt ...angry." Her jaw clenches again and her fingers tremble slightly when she presses them to her temple as though the thinking has given her a headache. "Not just angry," she whispers, the emotion she speaks of trembling in the words themselves. "But furious. The fire made me feel that way and it was as though I just wanted it all to burn. The beach, the ..." She grunts softly and drops her hand, soft brown eyes flat and tired when they meet mine again.

"The what?" I ask. Seeing her confusion I try to be clearer. "You said the beach, and then you said, the...? What else did you want to burn?"

Sighing, she shrugs sheepishly. "Did I? I don't know." A small gust of wind stirs up the plants by her feet making her shiver. A reminder to me of how cold the day is. Her immune system isn't up to anymore battles so I untangle her from the blanket and urge her firmly to her feet.

"Let's go inside, get you warmed up." She doesn't argue, only follows my lead allowing me to hold her hand and guide her indoors. The house is quiet when we enter. Emmett has gone to join Rose and Alice on their patrol of the area and the borders. Esme and Carlisle are in his study. I can hear the quiet tone of their conversation, both in my thoughts and carrying through the house to my sensitive hearing. They're discussing tentative plans for Alaska, trying to lay the groundwork for a future that as of yet is still not clearly ascertained. Placing her mug in the sink when she professes not to want it, I guide her upstairs and into our bathroom to start the shower.

She doesn't protest when I reach for her and gently remove her clothes. She watches me with tired trusting eyes as I do the same to my own before leading her under the warm soothing spray. I allow the hot water time to do what I cannot before I pull her into my arms and hold her close to me.

"I was so happy last night," she says quietly against my chest. "Did I ruin it all?"

I find her chin and tip it up to me to search her eyes for her reasoning. "Why would you think that? Nothing can ruin last night, love. Nothing."

She blushes softly. "This hasn't exactly been a picture perfect morning after, Edward."

Finding her lips I kiss her tenderly, deeply. Tangling the fingers of one hand in her hair, the other molds to the small of her back, carefully curving her body into mine. This time I know the shiver that wracks her has nothing to do with being cold and everything to do with the need that erupts between us.

"It's only 8:30," I whisper heatedly against her mouth. "The morning isn't over yet."

Ignoring everything, including the cell phone in my room on silent mode that nevertheless emits a soft electronic whir as a new message comes in, I lift her until her legs come around my waist. Inside of me the light has lost its battle with the dark. As the taste of her sweet mouth floods my senses I use the last of that dying light to love her one final time before I fully embrace what I am.

A dark immortal made for destruction. For revenge.

Hell hath no fury, Jacob Black.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N Disclaimer - cause its been awhile - Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight. Including a line or two that I've scandalously stolen for this chapter and put to my own use.

Huge thanks to my wonderful beta, Octoberland who tries very hard to fix all my to's and too's and doesn't get to/too cranky about it. ;)

* * *

Chapter 32 . . . Destruction?

**Edward's POV**

9:15 a.m.

Drawing the blankets higher over Bella's form, I disentangle myself from the perfect embrace of her limbs. Even as deeply asleep as she is she resists my efforts. The growing chill upon her skin however, warns me that continuing to lay with her will only disturb the rest she so desperately needs. Exhausted by an almost sleepless night, the emotional turmoil of the morning and our near frenzied lovemaking in the shower, she settles again within seconds, burrowing slightly deeper beneath the covers with a small sigh.

I settle into the chair that still sits by the bedside with my cell phone. I've missed two texts from Jasper. One stating that he'd followed Charlie on several seemingly unconnected errands, and another stating that Charlie had taken his car into a mechanic shop. The second text contained what I'd been waiting to hear. Jasper was certain that Charlie was going to attempt to give him the slip. The time of the text states 9:05 a.m. No sooner do I note that then the phone vibrates in my palm with an incoming call. Jasper.

"You were right," he states simply, bypassing polite greetings. "He's on the move, and he's got a head start on me. He's headed for the Reservation's South border. What do you want me to do?"

"How much of a head start?"

"Not enough. Thirty seconds at the most."

Despite the distance, my mind is so familiar with his I can read him clearly. His thoughts fill in for what he doesn't say. Charlie's head start is not a product of ingenuity based on his plans. It's merely that Jasper is confined to the car. With so many people around he was unable to follow on foot, limiting him in direction. By the time he'd gotten around the shop and picked up Charlie's trail it had been too late to stop him. I'm neither surprised nor alarmed. I don't want Jasper to stop him.

"Does he know you're there?"

"Not yet, he will in 30 seconds."

"Let him go." Through the phone I can hear the sounds of the Volvo's engine instantly decelerating, the tires grinding on gravel and dirt. I know the abandoned logging road and I know where it leads. "Follow him discreetly, Jasper. Let him think he lost you. There's no road in. He'll need to go on foot. I want to know the exact place he goes in."

"You're going to follow him." It isn't a question, but I answer him anyway.

"Yes."

His thoughts race through the implications of my statement.

"My choice, Jasper. My fight." I tell him. Whatever happens from this moment forward will be on my shoulders. I've made my choice and I will live with the consequences.

Jasper chuckles darkly at my words, his answer immediate and without hesitation. "My choice as well. Brother."

As the line disconnects, Bella stirs, her eyes beginning to flit rapidly behind her shadow bruised lids. She whimpers once, an indeterminate sound of distress that sounds very much like a name. My suspicions that her dreams are not her own grow. The venom in my mouth lets down in a violent rush.

First the son . . .

The plastic casing of the phone cracks in my hand.

**Charlie's POV**

My heart is hammering around in my chest like a jack rabbit, my palms as slippery as trout in a pond. But so far so good. The road behind me looks empty as I get out of the truck, leaving the keys in the ignition for Tim. Just in case I don't come back.

The small cleared out land I've parked the vehicle on is starting to sprout new growth and it snags my pant legs as I try to rush through. It's a lame thought, but I'll feel a hell of a lot better once I reach the tight cropping of trees. Like a kid who thinks that when they can't see you, you can't see them. Something about this whole thing feels too damn easy, even when I cross the so-called border into Quileute land, my heart doesn't cool it at all. If I thought some half baked ancient treaty was going to stop Edward Cullen, I sure as hell wouldn't be here right now so no wonder my nerves are so jumpy.

The woods are deep and cold, lingering dampness soaking right through my clothes and settling like moss over my bones. It's even damper here near the river. A sudden feeling of exhaustion grows on top of everything else but my heart slows a bit when I reach a new clearing, stopping to survey what's in front of me. The little log cabin is quiet, battered around the edges since Billy and I started neglecting it a year or so ago, but otherwise still the same as I remember. Some of our old fishing gear is stacked against the sagging porch and one of the windows shows a large crack running from sill to casing. A lot of mud, a lot of reed canary grass choking out the typical grass that used to grow pretty healthy when we'd looked after it. Yeah, all in all a damn good place to hide if one was so inclined. And if one isn't, still a damn good place to start.

Turning to the left, I'm not surprised to see Billy on the dock. I feel a little jolt of nerves seeing his chair perched in the middle of what can't be too damn stable all things considered. He and I used to come up here nearly every weekend to fish. But once the water started yielding fewer and fewer of them we'd moved our recreational pursuits to new places down stream. I hadn't been here in over a year, and that dock hasn't seen a hammer or nail since. Weather, rot and age have it tilting a little too far to the right if my eyes aren't betraying me.

One last wary glance at the too quiet cabin and I force my feet to carry me the distance between him and I. The dock gives a little under my feet and the nape of my neck prickles like someone's watching me. Only the snug feel of the gun digging into the small of my back keeps me from turning. If someone is coming out of the cabin they're doing it on feet made of air because I don't hear anything beyond my own breathing and the tiny little squeak that comes from Billy's chair when he adjusts his body. He doesn't turn around, but I know he knows I'm here. Stopping beside him I stay quiet, one ear nearly cocked trying to watch my back while I stare straight ahead, watch the water lap at one of the dock supports.

"Been sitting here for nearly an hour. Haven't seen a damn fish, not one." Billy is the first to break the silence. His tone holds a note of sadness, whether about the fish or what's brought us here is hard to say. Once I'd called the man my best friend, but something about Billy Black had always been an enigma to me. Guess I know what that is now.

"Used to be we could throw a rod in here and have half a dozen fish fighting for the bait. Remember? Renee'd get so mad when we'd get back to your place, caterwauling about stuffed freezers and how sick to death she was of fish."

I don't reply. If he's hoping to take a walk down memory lane he's got me on the wrong day. Bringing up Renee and the shortcomings I'd had in the husband department isn't going to help either. It just reminds me again of how much I've failed in life at the important things. How much I'm determined not to fail my daughter this time.

Billy grunts, taking his hat off for a second to scratch the top of his head. For the first time I notice how thin his hair has gotten. The grays and silvers starting to outnumber the blacks. A new slump to his shoulders telling me he might be as tired as I am. Underneath that though is a new steel rod inserted down the back of his spine, reminding me I'm not the only Father in this equation. "Maybe it was us. You take too much out and never put anything back, eventually it'll run dry."

Something about the way he says it carries a double meaning. "Didn't come here to talk fish, Billy. You know that."

"Yeah, I know." He sighs, placing his hat back on his head. "He isn't here, Charlie."

I don't bother pretending I don't know who he means. "No?"

"No." There's a strong note of finality to his tone. No, he isn't here. No, I'm not telling you where he is. No, I didn't want this, but he's my son. None of it needs to be said. It sits in the air like words on a page.

Dropping the pretense, I crouch beside Billy's chair. A thousand memories buzz around my head bombarding me with emotion I choke back. Memories that remind me, right or wrong that this man beside me has been my friend for most of my adult life. I rub the fingers of my left hand against my jeans trying to erase the tingling shards of pain that come and go with increasing frequency and clear my throat.

"You know I have to take him in, Billy. You can make it easy, or you can make it hard, but I'm not leaving without him." I'm still looking out over the water, but in my periphery I see him turn his head and look at me.

"Where do you think you're going to take him, Charlie? Or are you back to pretending you don't know anything?"

I ignore his veiled last question. "I'm the Chief of Police. I'm going to do my job and take Jacob into the precinct." I turn my own head finally to meet his eyes. I expect him to look angry, but he only looks sad.

"My son is a werewolf, Charlie. You can't put him in a cell."

My temper snaps. "Like hell I can't. Your son has walked around acting and behaving like a human for the last 17 years. He didn't need to be a werewolf to attack and nearly rape my daughter. He didn't need to be one to grab my gun and shoot me point blank in the chest. He sure as hell doesn't need to be one to take what's coming to him."

Billy doesn't flinch at my anger. "You can't _cage_ him, Charlie," he repeats adamantly.

Reining in my anger is surprisingly difficult. I have twenty years of professional practice. A lifetime of personal; it should be second nature. "Have you considered the alternative?" I ask. His eyes show he has, but I don't wait for his reply. "Edward Cullen is the alternative, Billy. So you need to ask yourself this. Is saving Jacob from spending a few years in a jail cell worth the outcome of this . . . alternative?"

"You know something I don't, Charlie?" His expression grows dark, a new set to his jaw. Sharp as a tack and twice as piercing his eyes search mine. "Not a real good time to keep secrets. Or do you not realize what's at stake?"

I hold his gaze, let him see for himself what I can't hide. The anger underneath the cop persona, the sense of betrayal and failure that make me dangerous. "Let me tell you what I know, Billy. I know I sat this morning in the Cullen house and watched Edward Cullen look at my daughter like she's his center of gravity. I know I watched that center of his gravity fight with everything in her to hide the raw wounds your son gouged out of her. I know I asked myself, if I were him, if the center of my gravity was threatened in any way, what would I do? The answer was damn easy, Billy. If I was Edward, it wouldn't matter what deals I'd made, or what treaties I'd break. I'd do whatever it took to make her safe."

"You don't know what deal he's made, Charlie." Billy says quietly. "If the deal included keeping that center of gravity forever, would he be as quick as you think to throw that away? If the treaty he'd break stops a war that could cost him everything? Would he throw _that_ away?"

"If it means keeping Bella safe?" I say, knowing that now in this moment I know Edward better than Billy ever can. "Then hell yes. He'd throw a hell of a lot more than that away, and you're a fool if you don't see it."

He turns away from me, back to looking out over the empty water but not before I catch a look in his eye that tells me he's no fool. He knows as well as I do what's coming. "I know Jacob's on the Res," I say, wanting him to know I'm not one either. "Let me do my job, Billy. I'll take him in, book him. He's going to do some hard time; I'm not going to lie to you. But he isn't facing murder charges, he won't get more than ten years. With luck and good behavior he can be out in five. A lot can change in five years."

"You thought about what that's going to do to Bella? A trial after all she's been through?"

There are a few parts of my plan I'm not comfortable with, this one's just the tip of the iceberg. And that's providing Jake cooperates. Pretty slim chance on that one. "Bella won't go through a trial. Her alibi for where she was that night is airtight. The only charge Jacob will be up against is attempted manslaughter." I level him with a look, letting him see in my face how much I'd like to nail Jacob with more, but that Bella comes first. "Sex offender laws being what they are today, I'd say Jacob's going to get off very easy."

"Can't put a wolf in a cage, Charlie." He shakes his head a tone of regret in his voice. He's starting to sound like a broken record and he's acting like I haven't just given him his son's best chance at redemption. "Jacob's trying to work all this out," he says, turning his head back to me an expression of pleading in his voice. "He doesn't remember what he did."

Standing up I pace to the end of the pier, working hard at restraint. I can feel my thin patience coiling up like a rattle snake, ready to snap. Dragging in a deep breath braces me a little and the resolve I came here with settles in around my shoulders. "I'm thinking it really isn't going to matter a whole hell of a lot to Edward what Jacob does or does not remember."

Billy's chair wheels scuff against the wood beneath them as he pushes the chair closer to where I stand. "Damn it, Charlie." His voice is a snarl of irritation making me turn back to face him warily. "Don't you get it? You need to stay out of this. You can't fit this into some neat little package of right and wrong. You can't use the laws of men to _fix this_. I know it's all you've got but it doesn't fit here, can't you see that? You need to go home and stay the hell out of this."

"I can't do that, Billy."

"Why? Why can't you do that, Charlie?" His tone turns almost mocking. "You've spent the last two years not seeing the forest for the trees. Why look at it now? You don't understand what you're dealing with but I do, and that includes Edward. I know exactly _what_ he is, exactly _what_ he's capable of; trust me. Go home, turn on the game. Let me take care of this."

The coil snaps. My hands are fisted in Billy's shirt and I'm hoisting him up from the chair before the sound of it stops twanging in my head. "YOU! You want me to let YOU take care of this? You son of a BITCH! My daughter was beaten black and blue by YOUR SON!" Flecks of spittle fly out of my mouth into Billy's face, and it's all I can do not to drag phlegm from the back of my throat and hawk it on him so dark is the anger slamming me right now. A month of pent up fury and disgust spew out like so much rotten garbage swelling out of a cesspool. "He BROKE her BONES. He put his fucking hands ALL OVER HER! He nearly killed her, do you KNOW that? She almost died when the ribs he broke punctured her lung, and then again when that caused pneumonia. She'd be DEAD right now if it wasn't for Carlisle and Edward Cullen."

Billy's hands are rigid and a lot stronger than I would have thought, but he can't pry my hands loose and I shake him hard to prove it. I'm beyond reasonable restraint. "YOU? My so-called best friend? You put her right in Jacob's arms. You and the other Elders. Even though you knew he was losing it, you served her up on a silver platter in your screwed up plan to get rid of the Cullens. And now you ask me to let YOU take care of THIS?" I slam him back into his chair so hard the entire frame rattles and tries to tip. With one of my hands twisting his shirt into a tourniquet around his throat I smash the other onto the chair's arm to keep it from flipping. "You want me to go home?" I snarl leaning in even closer. "TELL ME ONE GODDAMNED REASON," I roar, "WHY I SHOULDN'T DO JUST THAT AND LET EDWARD HAVE THE BOTH OF YOU?"

Breathing hard, the pain in my arm radiating dangerously into my shoulder to squeeze my chest in a vice like grip I let him go and back away a few feet. My hands shake and burn with the desire to slam a fist into his face. The violent urge makes me want to puke. I didn't come here for this. I came here to protect my daughter in the only way I know how. This isn't it.

Billy swipes a hand over his face to wipe away the spit bath I'd showered him in, his own breathing no more steady than mine. His face is red with frustration. "I'll tell you why you don't just let Edward have the both of us, Charlie. Because you know Edward might not walk away from it, and you know what that will do to Bella. That's why you're here isn't it. To try to protect him for her? Trying to wipe your own guilt clean by making sure the only thing she'll live for stays by her side?" He says the word live like a dirty word, twisting it and covering it in innuendo.

"Don't even try it," I bark in disgust. "Don't play the your kind his kind game with me, Billy. I'm not interested. Bella's made her choice, and unlike you I'm going to respect that now. You're wrong anyway. Between Edward and Jacob we both know who's going to walk away and who isn't. Werewolf or not, he's no match for Edward. That's why you've been hiding Jacob, why you keep hiding him here on the Res instead of somewhere else. Somewhere Edward couldn't find him. This is the only place the Cullens will think twice about coming. And you need Sam Uley to keep Jacob under wraps."

Something flashes in his eyes that confirms what I just said though he shakes his head. "You're wrong."

"Am I? I doubt it." Shaking my own head I watch every twitch in his expression. "You forget. I was there that night. I saw Jacob. I saw his face, and it sure the hell wasn't the face of a kid who's going to lie down and let someone else have what he wants."

"He doesn't remember," Billy yells. "He wasn't himself. The drugs screwed him up."

"How many times are you going to have to tell yourself that to make it true?" I ask in disgust. "If I were a betting man, I'd lay odds that you're fighting tooth and nail, you and Sam Uley both to keep Jacob under control. Carlisle explained the whole wolf hierarchy thing to me, Billy. I know all about alpha commands. If Jacob was repentant for what he did you would have let him run. You haven't." My cop radar is out in full, reading his face like a book, putting the pieces together as I go. More and more of the bullshit starts to make sense. "That tells me he isn't repentant. In fact it tells me if it wasn't for Sam keeping him bound by some rule he'd be throwing himself right into Edward's path."

Billy's shoulders droop from their rigid set, his face falling in confirmation. "You don't understand," he nearly whispers. "It isn't that he's not repentant. It's that he doesn't believe he did it in the first place."

"What . . . ?" He could have told me my head was screwed on backwards and I wouldn't have had a harder time believing that than I do this.

"I told you he doesn't remember. Not any of it. The drugs wiped his mind like a slate. He doesn't remember any part of that day, not the plan, not the drinking, not what he did to Bella, or you. None of it." Looking suddenly tired he straightens one of his pant legs that had bunched up when I'd dropped him back in the chair. "I think he gets some of it, but he just keeps saying he would never hurt Bella like that. I tried to tell him, so has Sam, but he won't, _can't _accept it."

Straightening he fixes me with a hard stare. "You're right. Sam and I are barely controlling him. So now, do you see why this stupid plan of yours to take Jacob in isn't going to work? He isn't going to hold his hands out to you, Charlie, while you snap a pair of cuffs on him. And he sure as hell isn't going to sit in a cell like a docile house pet. Especially not if you take him away from the leader of the Pack and the only person who has a chance in hell of holding him under control."

"I'm taking him in, Billy. It's the only way. Jacob needs to pay for what he did."

"Bullshit." He barks. His face twists and his hands ball up in fists. "You think I'm an idiot, Charlie Swan? You came to take him in?"

The anger I'm barely holding in makes my head throb. "With or without your help." I bark back.

"Yeah? So where's the cuffs Charlie? Not that they'd do you any good. You might as well wrap a rubber band around his wrists, but fine, let's play. Where are they? For that matter where's your back-up? Long as I've known you, you've never arrested anyone even remotely dangerous without following your own rules. And how about your badge, Charlie. Where's that? Should be hanging on your belt but I see it's missing too. You want to explain all that, or are you going to just stand there feeding me a line of bull hoping I'll choke on it?"

I stare at him for a minute then turn my head in the direction of the cabin speculatively. I know Jacob's not in there. He wouldn't have stayed quiet if he was. No, he's not here, but the answer to finding him is. Billy's good at keeping secrets. Hard though to keep secrets from someone you've known as long as he and I have known each other.

"I want Bella safe," I say, pointedly ignoring the questions.

His expression softens. "I won't let anyone hurt her, Charlie. Not again. I swear to you; Jacob is no threat to her."

"You're right. Because I'm not going to let him get anywhere near her, ever again." I move around him, half expecting him to try to jam his wheelchair into my legs in an asinine attempt to stop me, but he doesn't.

As I cross the dock and head toward the cabin his voice follows me. "I know what you're thinking, Charlie, but you're wrong. You can't stop Edward by taking Jacob down yourself. Even if you could put him in a cell, Edward would still find him; there isn't a jail on this planet that will stop him if he decides to break his vow. And if you think you can take matters into your own hands, you're wrong there too. You're only human, Charlie. You're only a man. Do you hear me? You're going to sign your damn death certificate, Charlie Swan, you stubborn son of a bitch. The Pack protects its own."

He isn't telling me anything I haven't already thought of. I push open the door and step inside, ignoring the new bursts of pain radiating over my arm.

**Edward's POV**

I close the phone after reading Jasper's latest text. I can hear Alice moving through the house, her small feet nearly flying up the stairs, silent save for her frantic thoughts. Jasper has already let her know what's happening.

She appears at my side and settles lightly on the arm of the chair. She doesn't look at me, her focus seemingly on Bella who still stirs restlessly in her sleep. "I can't see her," she murmurs in that quiet way only we can hear. "She's blocking again. I can't see her at all, or you." The weight of that mental blindfold translates heavily in her voice. "I don't know what will happen if you go after him, Edward. I can't help you at all."

"I'm not asking you to help, Alice."

She's quiet for a moment, her thoughts straining so hard to see something, anything, I'm amazed it doesn't cause her pain. Bella stirs again, a small moan escaping her softly parted lips. When she turns her head one tear slides free from her closed lids and trails down to disappear in her hair.

"She's dreaming." Alice reaches out as though to brush away the tear, but I capture her hand in an iron grip.

"Don't," I hiss. Her hand closes hard against mine, tiny nails painted with pale pink polish dig into my skin, gouging crescent-shaped grooves. Finally she turns her face to me and her eyes burn with feeling.

"We can leave," she says pleadingly. "We can take Bella and go somewhere, anywhere away from here. Alaska like we planned. She's strong, Edward. She can survive this, heal from this, she's human she just needs a little time."

"I'm not going to run, Alice." My voice sounds flat even to my own ears. Now that I've made my decision all emotion is centered on what will happen next. "I won't have her looking over her shoulder for the rest of her existence, wondering, if, _when_ he'll show up. And he will. You know he will, Alice. She'll never be safe, she'll never know peace . . . " The thought is unfathomable to me, so much so I cannot finish it.

"She'll be one of us soon." Her eyes plead, even as her hand clenches harder, nails digging nearly to the bone now.

Ignoring the pain I shake my head. "Yes. And her one natural enemy will be the same as ours. Werewolves. Jacob Black." Bella can't possibly hear me and yet at the mention of his name her body jerks then curls in on itself. "And we're back full circle, Alice."

"Your vow," she finishes weakly. She cannot see the future, but she knows I've made my decision and that she cannot change it.

"Pointless," I hiss, some emotion spilling free at the thought. "Made under duress and completely pointless. I spared his life for _permission _to change her? That is my right as her mate. And her choice as mine. Not the Packs to grant. If she hadn't been so ill I would never have made it, and you know it."

I can see the truth of that in her eyes. Each one of us had swallowed down the bitterness of my promise that night. None of us had liked the taste. I should know; I hadn't been spared any of their thoughts. Even Carlisle had choked on the flavor. No matter his reluctance to harm any creature, he is not without pride.

"I can't see anything," she cries, sounding incomparably helpless and sad. "But I know you haven't told her. Maybe she wouldn't want this." The sheets rustle and one of the extra pillows tumbles quietly to the floor, tossed there by Bella's restless movements.

"Wouldn't she?" I ask quietly, turning my head in time to see Bella clench her fist against the gold comforter. "There is no peace for her, Alice. Not even in sleep. Until this is over there won't be, and it will never be over as long as he lives."

"What about the Pack? They aren't just going to let you do this, Edward." Her arguments are losing steam.

"Have you forgotten who Jacob is? He's the true Pack leader, the true heir of Ephraim's line. Sam Uley controls him now, but one order from Jacob changes all of that. I intend to remind him of that power, should he even need it."

She shakes her head at me. "You can't count on that."

Smiling slightly I stand up, breaking her grasp on my hand. "I can and am counting on exactly that, Alice. You forget how well I know Jacob Black. This is no more over for him than it is for me." The marks she'd scored into my skin are already healing when I raise my hand to gently touch her cheek. The fear and worry in her eyes calm me somewhat. "Will you stay with Bella for a few minutes? I need to talk to Carlisle."

She closes her eyes, her hand clenching down on my wrist. "I should wake her up, tell her what you're planning to do."

"You won't though," I say with an indulgent smile.

Her eyes are dark with emotions when they reopen. "Won't I?"

"No. You want her safe as much as I do."

I can see the truth of that clearly in her mind. Were it Jasper she was protecting she probably wouldn't have waited as long as I have. Still, her inability to predict what may happen terrifies her, leaves her feeling defenseless, helpless. She is very much afraid for me.

"People are going to get in your way, Edward. _I_ could get in your way."

My hand tightens against her cheek, holding her in equal part's affection and warning. "If we had been born from the same parents, you could not be more loved, more my sister." Brushing a kiss across her forehead my voice drops even lower than it already is until it's nothing more than a whisper.

"Don't get in my way."

**Bella's POV**

The dream. The same yet different. I know I'm dreaming, but the weight of exhaustion pins me down in sleep.

I'm on the same beach, and yet nothing really looks the same. There is no sun, no light to brighten an endless scene of gray. The water looks dark. More like a bottomless lake than the brilliant blues of tropical waters. This time the beach stretches on and on, endless like a barren desert. At my feet the infinity symbol burns, sparking with heat and light, the only source of color anywhere.

A dry wind blows around me, hard enough to evaporate the tears that leak from the corners of my eyes. Tears of frustration and anger. I don't want to be here.

"Why won't you let me be?" I whisper. I'm alone, but not alone. The entire beach is deserted and yet the wind talks to me, curls around me with hissing insistence.

"_Stop this." _The sibilance of the sound echoes in my mind.

The heat of the flames sears my skin slightly as I drop to my knees beside them. In Esme's garden I'd wanted so badly to slide my hands right into the fire, to feel it burn up my hands while I held it. The need consumes me again and I stretch my fingers out and let the flames lick my skin. The pain is as brilliant as I'd thought it would be. I can feel it radiate over my entire body, matching the heat of frustration and wounded anger.

Pictures begin to form in the blaze. A thousand pictures dancing and deformed, hinting at so many things. All the people I love, memories from a life time ago, shadows of things that haven't yet come to be.

"_You don't want this."_

"Yes I do," I answer, feeling the truth of that answer all the way down to my core. The flesh on my fingers has begun to ripple and melt like candle wax. I can let this go, I can let it burn, and burn, and burn . . . I can let it burn until there is nothing left to be afraid of, nothing left to be sad about, nothing left to hurt me . . .

"_Nothing left at all. It will destroy everything, including all that you hold dear. All that you love_."

The flames lick up my arms, searing flesh and bone and emotion. Cleansing, pure. Hate has a taste, a tactile sensation, substance. Finally what eats at me is solid, not just a feeling. It has a face, a name.

Jacob's image wavers in the flame.

"I don't care. Just like you didn't care. Let it burn."


	33. Chapter 33

A/N A few readers have expressed some confusion over Bella's dreams. Perfectly understandable of course, I'm not writing them to be easily understandable, lol. Anyway, instead of launching into a lecture I thought I'd ask 'Edward' ;) to come and help me explain them a little. He graciously agreed.

**A:** So Edward. What do the readers need to know about Bella's dreams?

**E:** First of all they need to know that her dreams are her own. Like all dreams they are a manifestation of her subconscious. In other words her minds way of coping with and working through all the trauma she has been subjected too. Billy is a dream walker. He has the ability to _walk_ into her dreams, to be a part of them, but he does not create what she dreams. Once he is a part of them he can communicate with her, show her things, but essentially Bella's mind is still within her control.

**A:** And secondly?

**E**: Patience Aleea, I'm getting there.

**A:** Ugh, I know, I'm sorry. It's just so incredibly inconvenient _not_ to have mind reading readers. If they could just see what's in my head it would make things so much easier.

**E:** I'm not at all certain of that. Your mind is rather...

**A: **Stick to the subject at hand please.

**E: ***smirks* Very well. Second of all like many dreams nothing is straightforward. You have to look for the meanings. For example the infinity symbol.

**A:** Right the sideways figure eight. The one that is the same as the necklace you had made for her. The one Billy drew for her in the sand.

**E:** Yes. The symbol stands for infinity, forever, eternity. In Bella's dreams the symbol's meaning is twofold. First, it is a representation of our love. And second, it is a representation of the life we will share after I've changed her. Both are eternal. Or lasting for infinity if you prefer. The bond we share cannot end or be broken. And of course immortality will grant her eternal life.

**A:** Ugh. That's just so... beautiful. You do know how many women out there would kill for that kind of certainty right?

**E:** Try to focus please, Aleea.

**A:** Right, sorry. Where were we? Oh yeah, right, the infinity symbol. Okay, so now you've explained what it means, can you tell them why it's on fire?

**E:** Yes. Again the reasons are twofold. One, the fire is a manifestation of Bella's anger, which if your readers have been paying attention they will know is a new emotion for Bella at this stage in her healing. And two, it's a visual sign of the destruction that anger is capable of. The more she allows that anger to consume her, the hotter the fire burns. In essence threatening everything and everyone around her, including her and I, and our love and future.

**A:** Does Bella understand that?

**E:** A part of her does, yes. Which is why she is having these types of dreams. Subconsciously she is trying to make a decision.

**A:** The decision to . . .?　

**E:** Allow me to kill Jacob. Or not to kill Jacob. She is torn between her desire for revenge and her innate goodness. Your readers may need to refer to chapter 23 to be reminded of the fact that Bella overheard a conversation between Emmett and I. One that told her quite clearly of my intentions to go after Jacob Black. She's been struggling with that knowledge ever since.

**A:** Why is it so hard for her to make the decision, to let go of her anger? Especially when she knows what's at stake.

**E:** When Jacob attacked her, she was helpless. Helpless to fight him, helpless to stop him. He stripped away her right to say no, her perception of him, her power, and he discarded it all like it never mattered. Until now that helpless feeling has dominated her and made her feel weak, spawning her panic attacks and her feelings of guilt and unworthiness. Right now, to Bella, the anger feels very much like regaining some of her power. Can you blame her for being reluctant to let it go, for wanting to embrace those flames?

**A:** Hm, nope, not me.

**E:** Aleea?

**A:** Yes Edward?

**E:** Is there a particular reason why you're playing with my hair?

**A:** Uh, no, sorry, just curious to see if it was as soft as it looks. *sits back down* Okay, next question. And this one is directly from one of my amazing readers, b4bystar. In her last review she asked this question. "Is it coincidental that Edward is losing his cool at the same time that Bella is going through the anger phase of her recovery? Is she somehow triggering his reactions or is it just typical yummy Edward behaviour?"

**E:** *arches eyebrow* Typical yummy Edward behaviour?

**A:** Don't be coy, you know you're yummy, answer the question please.

**E:** You're very pushy for a human. You do remember that I'm not just a fictional character in a romantic series of books. I'm also a vampire.

**A:** Pshaw. Of course I remember but you don't eat humans, so since I'm not a bunny or an antelope, I'm not worried.

**E:** *Scowls* I do not eat bunnies and there are no antelope in Forks.

**A:** You're avoiding the question.

**E:** Perhaps. *Sighs* It's complicated.

**A:** How so?

**E:** I'm a vampire. I fight my nature on a daily basis, as does my entire family. That is our choice but it isn't easy, Aleea. Your readers should try to remember that above all else I am an apex predator defending my mate. Mercy is never part of that equation. Neither is remorse.

**A:** *Swallows. Decides playing with his hair again isn't an option* So her emotions are not affecting yours.

**E:** Again, it's complicated. Being that I love her it would be odd for her emotions not to affect mine. If she is hurting than so to am I.

**A:** Of course, that goes without saying. I think b4bystar is getting at something a bit different though.

**E:** Aleea. Do you want me to give out spoilers?

**A:** Oh. Right. Nope, don't want you to do that, never mind.

**E:** *sighs* Is there a particular reason why a moment ago you were practically sitting in my lap and now you're all the way across the room?

**A:** Um, I don't know. Might have been that comment about apex predators and no remorse, or something like it.

**E:** *rolls eyes* Come here, I'm not going to hurt you.

**A:** *pouts* You know it really isn't nice to scare the writers who are keeping you alive. Stephanie's not writing anymore books about you you know.

**E:** Yes, you're right. And I apologize, now come here.

**A:** Can I play with your hair?

**E:** If it makes you feel better, yes.

**A:** *grins* Well I could use a snuggle too. Writing this story is really kicking my ass. It's not easy digging this deep into angst and dark drama you know.

**E:** You really are going to play that one for all it's worth aren't you.

**A:** Is it working?

**E:** You're sitting in my lap playing with my hair aren't you?

**A:** Yes. And it's a very nice lap too. I can see why Bella likes to spend so much time here.

**E:** Hm. So did any of your other readers have any questions?

**A:** No, not really. A few requests though.

**E:** Such as?

**A:** Well Cheyenne Masen wants Carlisle to be her Daddy. But then so does nearly everyone. Not much you can do there I suppose.

**E:** No, *smiles* I'm afraid Carlisle has his hands full with the 6 kids he has.

**A:** Um, Cella72 is feeling needy. Bobabs of course would love for you to visit again, and oh yes. Irishtwimom is way to caught up in her BDB books. I really think she needs to be reminded of your appeal.

**E:** *snorts* She does realize I could take out any one of those Black Dagger Brothers with my pinkie finger. They're practically mortal.

**A:** Well to be fair I don't think the appeal is in their superior strength. It's most likely in their superior *ahem* bedroom skills.

**E:** *Snorts again, takes out cell phone*

**A:** What are you doing?

**E:** Arranging a flight to Ireland.

**A:** *Smiles* Oh, she'll enjoy that.

**E:** Yes. She will.

*wink*

Feel free, dear readers to ask questions anytime. I'll try to get "Edward" to answer. ;)

*BDB refers to the Black Dagger Brotherhood series by J.R. Ward. A must read for anyone who loves paranormal romance. Thanks to Irishtwimom for getting me addicted to them. Now I can't get a certain vampire by the name of Zsadist out of my GD head. Shh, don't tell Edward. ;)

Huge thanks to my super amazing beta, Octoberland and to all my super amazing readers. I sincerely believe that in the realm of fanfic I have the most incredible readers/reviewers ever. Seriously, have you read my reviews? Lol. Unbelievable how much time and effort you guys will put into them, all for little old me. *blushes*

* * *

**Chapter 33** . . . Salvation?

**Edward's POV**

As I enter Carlisle's office, I can hear Emmett and Rose coming in the house. It's apparent that Alice has filled everyone in on the situation. I'd hoped to be able to speak quickly with Carlisle and then slip away undetected and undeterred, something no doubt that Alice suspected. Bella and the Pack might be blocking her visions but she's astute enough without them to set roadblocks up in front of me. Aside from throttling Alice, which while tempting would do little to rectify the situation, there is nothing I can do now to keep my family out of it. If it were up to me, I would do this alone. It would appear that it isn't going to be left up to me.

Emmett's thoughts more than confirm that suspicion. They are rabid with poorly contained excitement. Like Jasper he's more than ready to stand at my side and his only concern is that there will be something for him to do _besides_ stand and watch. Rose's thoughts are surprisingly quiet. She seems merely resolved. As though she'd known this would happen, which perhaps she has. Rose knows better than any of us exactly what personal revenge feels like, exactly how necessary it can be.

The tension in Carlisle's office however, is palpable. He and Esme face each other, their thoughts conflicted. Carlisle jams his hands in his pocket and turns to face me.

"I'm sorry to interrupt."　

"It's alright son. You're not interrupting. We were expecting you." Carlisle eyes study mine and he sighs. "You've decided," he states. His mind shows clearly that the discussion that is causing such tension is based on his knowledge. He smiles without humour. "You aren't hard to read, Edward. Earlier when Bella was experiencing her attack I recognized the look that crossed your face. I knew the time would come when you wouldn't sit idle on this situation any longer. I'd hoped of course that it wouldn't."

"I'm sorry, Carlisle. I know you never agree with violence, but you have to understand that I cannot just let this go. Even if I could, Jacob Black won't. Would you have Bella and I spending our lives looking over our shoulders, waiting for the inevitable?"

A rare look of anger crosses Carlisle's face and he growls slightly. "Don't Edward. Don't spout rhetoric to me, son. At least be honest. This is just as much about your anger as it is about protecting Bella."

I feel that very anger surface in response. "I respect you, Carlisle. But don't pretend to understand how I feel, or why I feel it. I'm not asking for your support or your approval. I'm only here to tell you what I've decided to do."

His expression softens. "I do understand how you feel."

"You can't, and I would never wish that you would."

Carlisle so often the most stable individual I know clenches his fists. I realize too late that this isn't about his compassion. My father is drowning in his own sense of guilt. When he sees the understanding cross my face he nods.

"I could have prevented all of this. I knew how volatile Jacob was becoming. I know the werewolf nature and how that volatility could play out. I could have stopped this. I could have spared Bella this pain."

"You tried to warn me, Carlisle. I wouldn't listen. The full onus of responsibility rests on my shoulders, not yours."

"I should have warned you sooner. By the time I thought to do so it was too late."

"You aren't the only one, Carlisle." Emmett interjects into the conversation forcefully, his voice rough with his own bitterness and guilt. "I saw it too, so did Jasper. Neither of us did what we should have either."

"None of this matters," I hiss in response. "I knew better than anyone what was going on in Jacob's mind. I thought his love for her would be strong enough to overcome the darkness I could hear growing. So I ignored it. Now all I can do is make her safe again. And I will. I ask nothing from any of you except that you allow me to do what I have to do."

Emmett is suddenly at my side, his expression angry. "Don't even think about it, Edward. We do this together or not at all."

"This is my fight, Emmett. Mine alone." I growl.

"Not gonna happen, brother." He flashes his teeth at me in a half snarl half grin. "You going to get Bella out of town like you planned?"

"No time. Charlie is forcing my hand and to be honest, I think she's safer here."

Rose had been hovering near the door, but she steps further into the room now. "There is another option, Edward."

"There is no other option, Rose." My decision is made and every second I waste now is a danger to Charlie and an impatience I cannot tolerate.

"Yes, there is."

The ice ball in my guts churns, feeling as though it has grown spikes that tear at my insides. The rage I've kept at bay for so long is spurring forward and I'm eager to embrace it. "What?"

"Change Bella. Change her right now. The choice should be hers. She'll be strong enough to kill him if that's what she wants."

"Newborns aren't rational, Rose." Carlisle warns.

She curls her lip up with a small sneer. "All the better." I can hear her memories churning up her own ghosts of blood and hate.

"No," I turn on her angrily. "I promised Bella I would turn her, and I will. But not like this. Never like this. I will make her immortal out of love, Rose. Because she chooses to be with me for eternity. I will never let her willingly embrace the dark side of what we are. She will never have to. It's my job to protect her."

"He's right," Esme murmurs. Until now she'd been quiet, watchful, one hand resting on Carlisle's arm. "Bella needs time to heal before she's changed. Don't ask her to bear what you and I do, Rose. Her change will be like nothing any of us have known. Her choice, made out of love. Without darkness or regret or force. Edward has fought for that for her; don't undermine their wishes."

"If you take that choice away from her, Edward, there could be a price to pay." Rose replies, ignoring Esme.

"Then I will pay it." Again I hear nothing I haven't considered. "I will not ask her to make this choice. I will not ask her to take on that kind of burden. Her soul and her conscience will stay clean. All that matters now is that I keep her safe."

"I don't mean to interrupt family discussion time here," Emmett interjects. "But every second we waste discussing this is one more second Bella's Father has to find Jacob and get himself killed. Whatever else we do right now we sure as hell have to stop that from happening."

Carlisle nods. "Emmett is right, protecting Charlie is our first priority." He looks at me, his thoughts clearly disgruntled. He is not pleased with my choice in allowing Charlie to do what he's thus far been able to accomplish. I nod my head both in acknowledgment of my guilt at putting Charlie at risk, and in his desire to make keeping him safe a priority. My priorities are not exactly in that order, but they don't need to be. I can trust my family to look after Bella's Father. "Do you have any idea what he's planning Edward?"

"I don't believe that Charlie wants anything different than what he has from the beginning. He wants to do his job. He'll try to do what he knows. Beyond that I cannot say for sure. Charlie is . . . unstable. The strain, his health, seeing Bella the way she is right now, there really is no saying what he'll do. His thoughts have been extremely conflicting and he's making a strong effort to hide them from me."

"But you believe he knows where Jacob is."

"Yes. He's had suspicions for weeks, but whatever he's learned recently has confirmed it for him."

Carlisle shakes his head. "We've been keeping a close eye on that entire area, Edward. There is no way they've been keeping Jacob anywhere near there."　

"Which is the only reason I allowed him to get as far as he has." That comment is as close as I will ever get to explaining my actions. Though I would never put Charlie in any real danger, I'm not above using him as a pawn to get what I want. I won't justify it further. "I can't be certain, but I picked up something from Charlie's thoughts this morning. He seems to feel he needs to go there, and he seemed to be thinking of Billy and confirming his suspicions. Charlie's mind can be a little hard to read at the best of times. With him actively trying to keep his thoughts off of anything he doesn't want me to know, it's been twice as hard."

"Surely though, of all people Charlie Swan isn't capable of . . . " Esme doesn't finish her sentence, clearly struggling to imagine that the man who'd sat in her kitchen only a short while ago praising her coffee, had done so while planning murder.

Carlisle rubs her shoulders soothingly, though his words aren't at all meant to calm. "First and foremost Charlie is a Father. Bella is not my blood child and yet I'm struggling constantly with my own sense of values. I can only imagine his."

Esme hisses, her eyes narrowing fiercely. "Blood means nothing. She _is our_ _child_, Carlisle. Our most fragile child. I love you for your compassion but it has no place here. Edward is right, nothing else matters now except that she is safe. _We_ have to make her safe."

His hands cup her face gently and he nods. Not that he needs to. His mind had been resolved to what will happen from the moment Bella had collapsed in his arms in the garden. Probably before that. He simply would not be Carlisle if he didn't look at every angle before taking action. Even if he wasn't resolved he would have listened to Esme's plea. There is nothing he would deny her, especially in this. With her protective mother instincts coming out in full force he'd be helpless to even try anyway. I feel a strong surge of love for that nearly overwhelms me with gratitude.

"Charlie won't take a life lightly, not even Jacob's. He'll only act if his hand is forced."

"What I don't get," Emmett remarks. "Is why he'd go see Billy. Does he think Billy is going to tell him where Jacob is?"

"If Edward is correct in assuming that Charlie will want to arrest Jacob, then it would be only logical for him to think he could appeal to Billy. Perhaps even get him to agree to such measures." Carlisle shakes his head. "To us the logic is highly flawed, but to a man like Charlie Swan, the law is everything. It's what he does and who he is."

A sudden unwelcome presence invades my head and I groan, pacing quickly to the window. Carlisle follows.

"What is it, Edward?"

"A complication," I mutter, grabbing my phone and quickly dialing Jasper's cell. "Charlie's sister Julie is here, she's worried about him," I tell him as I turn to Esme.

"Go meet her as if you were just in the garden. Stall her. I'll be there in just a minute. And Esme, don't bring her in the house. I don't want Bella to hear her and wake." Esme nods and vanishes out the door just as Jasper answers. I don't wait for him to say anything. "Jasper, where is Charlie?"

"Still just inside the border. There's an old abandoned looking fishing cabin. He and Billy Black have been having quite the conversation. I can't see them, too much cover, but Jacob Black isn't here, Edward."

"I know that."

"Yes, I figured. I couldn't imagine you letting him get that close."

"And the Pack?"

"Can't tell for sure. I've picked up a whiff or two, but I can't pin them. They're either running the borders but haven't come up on me yet, or they're stationary. Somewhere near enough I can smell them, but too far away and down wind for them to detect me."

My mind does quick calculations. I have a feeling he's right with his latter suspicion. Which means the Pack is somewhere North of where Charlie is right now. "They wouldn't be stupid enough not to have someone watching the borders, so keep your eyes open. I'm sending Emmett to watch your back. He'll be there in a minute." I haven't even finished my sentence before Emmett races out the door, nothing more than blurred wind.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. In the meantime stay close, but don't cross the border unless Charlie is in danger. And Jasper? Don't let him know you're there."

"Consider it done."

"How close are you going to allow Charlie to get, Edward?" Carlisle asks as I hang up the phone. Again his thoughts reverberate with his disapproval.

"Close enough to show me where Jacob is." He makes a dark sound in his throat so I make an effort to tamp down my impatience and need for action. "I will not allow Charlie and Jacob to come in contact. Jacob is mine." I don't allow the discussion to continue. I understand his concerns but I will not be swayed from my plan of action. I turn to Rose.

"What do you want me to do?" Her eyes are wary.

"I need you here, Rose. I need you to stay with Alice and look after Bella."

Hissing she goes from wary too angry in the blink of an eye. "You're going to need all the help you can get when the Pack comes after you. Are you stupid?"

"The Pack isn't going to be a problem." Her eyes narrow and her thoughts snarl, mocking me for an idiot. I don't give her time to voice them. "Trust me."

She doesn't trust me, and her thoughts make that painfully clear. I'm not surprised. Perhaps she had once but our differences had grown into a chasm since Bella had entered my life. Some gaps can never be crossed. I hope with every fiber of my being that this isn't one of them.

"I'm not a baby-sitter." She spits, twisting the term into one that sounds mocking.

Ignoring the jibe I step closer to her and repeat my earlier action with Alice. Gently but firmly I rest my hand on her cheek, cupping her face and holding it tightly enough she can't pull away. On another day she and I might be fairly equal in strength, but this is not another day and I am not merely her slightly indulgent brother as I would normally be.

"What you are is my sister, and I love you. I'm asking you to stay and protect the most important thing in my world." Rose freezes at my words, the arms that had been coming up to push me away falling back to her sides. "If he gets around me somehow, if anything happens, I need you here to keep her safe, Rose."

"Alice or ..."

"Esme and Alice will stay as well. I won't leave Bella with anything less." Her eyes narrow again ready with more arguments I don't let her voice. Behind me Carlisle is filling a bag with money and passports, simple medications Bella might need, various types of fake id's, anything we may require should we have to get away quickly. Leaning close to Rose I kiss her cheek gently and whisper in her ear so low that even him as close as he is he won't hear. "If Jacob Black escapes me, it's you I will place in his path, Rose. Remember what you endured, remember what she's endured. No mercy, Rose, none."

Letting her go I follow the sound of Esme's voice rising in polite greeting out to the front drive. From the doorway of my bedroom, Alice watches me go. I catch a glimpse of her eyes and the image follows me. Shadowed and frightened it's very clear she still sees nothing. Bella's gift now has her completely blind. The futures of each one of us, including her own has vanished. It's as though the Cullen clan will suddenly at any moment simply cease to exist. Bella's power is growing.

**Charlie's POV**

I take a minute when I first cross the threshold to get my bearings. As confident as I am that Jacob isn't here I don't have any intentions of just barreling in. Besides a sense of caution, I can also feel Billy's eyes on my back. I need him to think that I believe Jacob is here despite his denials. The less he knows about what I'm really after, the better.

The interior of the cabin is musty. The smell of damp and the ghost of stale odors clings to everything. The greasy smell of fish fry still lingers vaguely in the air. It vanishes when I try to drag it in, being replaced instead by the cold ash sitting in the old wood burning stove in the corner. The lights don't work, the old generator Billy and I had fought with for years no doubt dead and silent by now. None of the windows have any coverings however, so there is more than enough light for me to find my way. Nothing much to trip over anyway. Billy and I had stuffed an old couch in the corner and it's still there. Otherwise, the only furniture in the place is a couple of half-rotted canvas-covered lawn chairs. The tiny half kitchen is clean, but now the old smell of fish fry isn't just vague. It's strong, reminding me of just how many bachelor type meals Billy and I had eaten here after Renee had left. After Sarah had passed away.

An image of Jacob's Mother comes unbidden to my mind. Just a tiny thing, pretty as a picture though. Billy'd never been the same after she'd died. Some internal light behind his eyes extinguished forever. For a while I'd thought the light might come back some day, but it never had. Funny how I'd forgotten about that light until just now, like it had never existed. Wondering what she'd think about all of this pulls me off track and has me standing and staring at a wall, rubbing my arm like I can bring the feeling back in it. The numbness that used to be in my fingers is creeping up halfway to my elbow now. I shake off Sarah's image and the useless thoughts that go with it, and pull open the top drawer beside the old Frigidaire refrigerator.

It's still there, right where I remember it. The part of me that still holds Billy in my heart as a friend feels a twinge at the evidence that maybe proves why the light never came back on for him. He's never really let Sarah go. The pale cream-colored anniversary card in my hand covered in pink roses and starting to turn yellow with age proves it. The card isn't special. It would blend in with any other card ever sold, even today. Right from its gold edged ornately scripted Happy Anniversary, to its overly sentimental prose printed in pink on the inside flap. Billy's writing in comparison is sloppy, almost looking like he'd scrawled it hastily in the truck before coming to stash it here. His message hurts my heart no matter what's happened. 'To Sarah. For our future. Love Billy.' She'd died two days before their anniversary. He'd never gotten the chance to give it to her.

The paper of the land deed I find carefully placed inside feels soft from years of being folded and flattened. Checking to make sure the small printout of a map is still attached, I place that in the breast pocket of my shirt and replace the deed and card back in the drawer. Billy had talked for years about wanting to buy a plot of land where he and Sarah could live during their retirement years. A place where he could build their dream house. What he hadn't done was ever tell me that he'd finally found a way to accomplish what he'd wanted. The only reason I knew it existed in the first place was because I'd intercepted a call at his house. A call that had come in the day after the funeral from an agent wanting him to know the final paperwork had all gone through. That the land was his free and clear. Billy had been passed out cold in bed after drinking himself into a stupor and I'd never mentioned to him what I knew. It was just too raw. Not just for him but for all of us. Two weeks later I found the card by accident while looking for something sharp enough to cut fishing line. Stuffed under two old egg cartons full of miscellaneous crap. I never even would have seen it at all if one of the knives I'd started to drag out hadn't tipped one of the cartons over.

Out the window I can see Billy, still sitting on the dock. His head is lowered almost like he's sleeping. Or praying. I drag in a deep breath wondering what the final confrontation between him and I will be and nearly gag on the greasy smell that seems stronger now, though no doubt that's only my imagination. I swallow back the urge to puke, feeling a fine cold sweat break out all over my body. My knees shake and I have to grab the counter for support. I wish I could have slept last night, my energy is really flagging now. If the man outside was still just my friend. If he was just the man who'd lost his wife and done the best he could and not the dream walking Shaman and father of the werewolf who tried to rape my daughter and end my life, I might have been able to sleep last night. Keeping Billy Black out of my head is a lot harder than keeping Edward out. I can do a damn good job controlling what I think, but no man can control what he dreams.

Just a little longer now, I tell myself dragging in air through my mouth to avoid the smell. Just a little longer.

With my knees supporting me again I head back outside contemplating the best way to get to where I suspect I need to be. There really were only the two choices once I'd narrowed things down. I may not have any jurisdiction in the Res but that didn't mean I didn't have eyes there. My contacts were rock solid and they hadn't let me down, allowing me to quickly eliminate a dozen other possibilities. Including the one that would have me finding him anywhere the Elders would like me to believe I'd find him.

Keeping Jacob on the Res might seem like the smartest thing, but in retrospect it made better sense to keep him out. Billy and the other Elders, Sam included would have realized that a so-called treaty wasn't any kind of guarantee that Edward and his family wouldn't come looking for Jacob. Not after everything that has happened. They'd make some serious moves to protect the Quileute people from any kind of a confrontation happening on their land. The Quileute legends of the Cold Ones portray them as blood hungry creatures who feed like frenzied sharks. The Pack might protect its own, but its first and most primary duty was to protect its people.

Even better yet, the Cullens wouldn't have any reason to know that Billy owned land outside of the Reservation. Likewise, now that I've seen the map they wouldn't have any reason to get too close to the area where that very land sits. It's never been said, but I know that if the Cullens watch me like a hawk, they'd also be watching the other players in this screwed up mess. Most likely they're keeping a real close eye on the borders, keeping track of whatever and whoever comes and goes. But this land sits right in between Quileute land and the Pacific Ocean. Nothing but cliffs between it and the pounding surf. Only one way in or out.

The only perk to such a place is that you'd be able to see anyone coming at you. And the caves. I'd forgotten about the caves. Most of them are too small to be any good to anyone. But one of them isn't too small. And if you're a werewolf with a body temperature holding steady at 108 degrees Fahrenheit? Nothing cozier.

Billy lifts his head when I approach. His eyes are weirdly bright but even weirder they look unfocused, as though he's peering inward at something only he can see. The whole Shaman thing creeps me out, makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up on end. I wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly started chanting in some sing song rhyme with all those weird Quileute sounds that drop vowels all over the place. I wonder whose head he might be walking around in and I'm damn grateful Bella is up and awake, safe with Edward and the other equally protective Cullens.

"He's not in there." I let my shoulders slump a little in fake defeat. Despite the fact that the look in Billy's eyes creeps me out, I can't help but appreciate the fact that his attention doesn't seem to be fully on me. I'd make a piss poor actor.

"I told you that, Charlie."

"Yeah, I guess you did." Putting on my hard ass face, I stare him down ignoring the otherworldly quality to the gaze he levels back at me. One last time I try to reach my former best friend and make him see reason. "You gotta see that my way is the best way, Billy. Tell me where he is. Let me take him in. I can keep him safe, Edward's not going to cross me."

Despite the look that says he isn't all here, he snorts. "Still playing cop, Chief?"

"I'm not playing. It's what I am."

"Not today you're not. Today you're a Father. Just like me."

The anger is still there but I push it down. "Don't compare yourself to me, Billy. Don't ever do it. I'm protecting an innocent. You? You're protecting a monster." His head snaps back a bit at that though he doesn't react any other way. He's always been better at keeping his temper in check than I have.

"Go home, Charlie. You look like hell. This isn't a good place for you to be right now. Elements are gathering, I can hear it in the wind. Don't waste the second chance I gave you."

"You gave me that second chance so I could stop this. Your words not mine. Or did you forget that?"

"I haven't forgotten," he says, shadows shifting around and in his dark eyes. The wind around us seems to pick up smelling of sage and burning earth. "But you've done your part. You lived. I thought that would be enough but I was a fool. Your life bought us time, nothing more."

"Jesus, Billy. Stop the mystical shit for God's sake and see reason."

"Reason has no place here, Charlie. Jacob crossed a dark force. An immortal creature made for desecration and death. That is what Edward is beneath the civility and morals of his choices, never be in doubt of that. He's not a monster, no more than my son is a monster, but he was born in darkness. He has lived in that darkness for nearly a century, never knowing true light until he found Bella. He followed her into that light and she alone has kept him there. But she is lost in the dark and where she lives, so too does he. You've seen with your own eyes just as I have that Bella and Edward cannot be separated. There is something between them greater than all the forces that oppose such an unnatural joining." His voice has taken on a trance like tone, lulling me past the point where his words make sense. The feeling of being tired grows with every sentence and it takes a huge effort to shake it off.

"Bella isn't in darkness. She's hurting, but she's strong. All she needs is peace of mind, time. She and Edward will be fine if they can have those things."

"She's lost, Charlie. Your actions and Edward's will only drag her further down into the abyss. You cannot save her with violence. You will only curse her with darkness."

"You'd say anything to save your son, wouldn't you?" The anger helps shake off whatever mojo he's spinning in my head and I take a few steps back away from him. I've been forced into accepting a lot in the last few weeks, but I'll be damned if I'll let him manipulate me into believing he can fix this. "I've given you your best chance at keeping him safe, a way out of this mess."

"Your way only buys more useless time. The inevitable has already begun." His preternatural calm is eerie. "Go home, Charlie. I swear with my own life and every power of the earth that exists. I will let nothing harm your daughter. Nothing."

Shaking my head I manage another step back. "There isn't any power on earth or any oath you could swear that will ever mean anything to me now, Billy. And I sure as hell will never trust you with my daughter's life. Eventually I'm going to figure out where he is. I'm not walking away from this. You know where to find me when you decide to be smart and do the best thing for everyone."

Without waiting for a reply I turn on my heel and head back to the truck. I'm not going to get anywhere with Billy. The only thing I'm going to do is give away what I know. Let him think I've given up for now. I'm running out of time.

**Bella's POV**

The hallway looks endless. It disappears, swallowed up by a darkness so thick it's impenetrable. I can't tell if it really is endless or only that my eyes can't see that far. A light by my side flickers. Turning toward it I see the pale, frosted, old fashioned style wall sconce flicker one last time before it goes black. An equally endless row of them extends down the hallway. I wonder how long it will be before they all go black.

Spinning around to look for a doorway out I'm greeted by a matching sight. Endless hall, endless row of sconces ending in a yawning gap of darkness. A few more lights flicker randomly, prompting my feet to move. Left or right? Everything looks the same and indecision tears at me.

The carpet beneath my bare feet is red and warm. The fibers are so long they tickle the edges of my feet, scarlet against ivory. Blood on bone.

I have no idea where that thought comes from. It leaves me aching, craving something I don't understand. The craving forces me to move forward. I'm too turned around from spinning in indecision to know whether the movement is taking me left down the hallway or right.

Beside each light sconce I discover a door. More ivory rising from the sea of red at my feet. Closed tightly the smooth panels feel cold on my palms. Cold like a corpse, cold like Edward's skin.

_Edward._

My heart races, begins to throb and ache. I want to call his name but my throat burns and no sound comes out. I need him but I can't call him. Fear pricks the edges of my vision distorting the endless hallway. I try the knob of the first door and it rattles beneath each twist refusing to open. The need to find Edward, to be in his arms propels me down the hallway, pausing at each door, rattling every handle. The sensation of being trapped grows with each failure. So does the anger. I don't want to be here.

_Bella._

The voice comes from nowhere. Not muffled from behind a door, not echoing with distance. Instead it just vibrates in the air coming from nowhere and everywhere. Still I recognize it.

_Billy. _I say his name like a curse and slam my fist against the door, once, twice, again and again.

_You're lost, Bella._

_What do you want from me?_

Down the entire hallway the door handles rattle and the lights flicker. Two of them fade, flicker again and then go black. Two more do the same.

So much darkness.

The failing light should scare me but it doesn't. The blackness feels cool, like a welcoming touch. Like the caress of a lover's hand.

_Edward._

The need for him is so strong. I remember the way his body feels against mine, the way his cold touch had set my skin on fire. The burn that his caress and his kiss had induced had seared away everything, growing and growing until I'd burst into a thousand particles. Spinning golden orbs of ash. Falling back together, locked in the impossibly strong solid marble clasp of his arms. Safe and whole.

A sob of frustration seems to come from my core. From the place that aches the most for him. Empty and needy.

_You're the day to his night, Bella. Fire and ice, sun and moon. Never meant to exist together._

We do exist together though. We do.

_Just as night gives way to day. Day gives way to night. Fire melts ice. Melted ice drowns the flames. The moon eclipses the sun. Nature finds a force to negate everything that doesn't belong together._

No. Not us. I press my hands to my head, press my lips just as tight together, refusing to answer him. It's pointless. He's in my head.

_Yes. Even you._

_Is that what you want? To finish what your son started?_

I'm screaming the words now. Wondering why no one hears me. Why no one comes to wake me up. Why Edward is leaving me here all alone? _I won't let you, Billy Black. I won't let you, do you hear me? I won't let you tear us apart._

The door closest to me suddenly opens revealing a familiar scene. Charlie sits in his living room. The game is on. A beer on the coffee table catches the multi colored refractions from the tv screen and turns it to liquid gold. He's cleaning his gun and he looks up at me with a tired smile. "Hey, Bells. Dinner going to be ready soon?"

Behind me another light flickers and goes out. The darkness creeps toward the light in the room where Charlie sits.

_Soon Dad, _I whisper, then shut the door quickly, sealing him into the light. Safe from dark.

Another door opens. Carlisle, at his desk in his study. He has a pencil in one hand and a book in the other. More books are piled all over his desk. "There's an answer here, Bella. I just can't seem to find it." He looks up and smiles warmly. "Don't worry. I won't stop looking."

The light beside his door flickers. Even before it can go out, I'm closing it tight, banishing the darkness back into the hallway.

Another door, another flickering light. Alice and Jasper playing chess. "Come here, Bella. Alice is cheating, come help me keep her honest." Jasper holds his hand out to me while Alice blows me a kiss. The darkness kisses the doorframe just before I close it.

And the next. Esme. In the kitchen. Fussing. "Bella. You need to eat. Come and help me find something to tempt your appetite, sweetheart. There must be something here you'll like, or I could order in?" She's back to looking in the fridge when I shut out the darkness.

Door five. Emmett and Rose in their bedroom. Rose looks up from her magazine and rolls her eyes. "Did Edward leave you again?" She sighs and pats the bed beside her looking slightly annoyed. "Come on. You can stay and sleep here till he comes back."

Emmett grins. "No chick flicks though. I know, let's watch Dracula." He's laughing when I close the door and seal them into the light.

I run for the last door. Edward. Edward has to be there. He is. He's standing in our meadow, leaning against a tree. He smiles when he sees me though he doesn't speak. He moves to the doorway and my heart finally stops racing. A sense of peace falls around me, one even better than the darkness that now almost consumes the hallway. The last light at his door suddenly flickers and panic sends my heart rate back up. Hard enough I can feel it pounding in my throat. He isn't going to get to the doorway in time. If I don't close the door, the darkness will cover us both. The quiet cool dark. Would it be so wrong to live in the dark? To embrace it?

All along the now dark hallway infinity symbols begin to burn in the blood red carpet.

**Edward's POV**

Just before I can leave the house to join Esme and Julie my cell vibrates in my pocket.

"Edward, is everything okay?" Jasper's tone conveys his concern.

"Yes, what's wrong?"

"Emmett is here, but I can't read him. Him or Charlie. It's nothing but static. I can still read Billy but he's..."

"He's what?" That I have to ask is my first inclination that the silence in my head is way too complete.

"Calm. Eerie calm, like he's in a trance."

Uttering a soft curse I turn around to see Carlisle coming down the stairs. The expression on my face has him hurrying towards me and my suspicions are confirmed. I can't read his thoughts either. My eyes turn upwards towards the ceiling as though I could penetrate the floors with my vision. As though I could see into her mind and discover what secrets she's holding.

"Bella's shield is up and she's projecting it on all of us," I tell them both. "We're going into this completely blind."


	34. Chapter 34

A/N Sorry for the slower update. This chapter required an immense amount of research all of which amounted to a few sentences worth of content. :( *sigh* That being said I know I have a few readers who may find errors with said research. I apologize in advance if this is the case. The internet was my only source of information this time around and one can never fully trust the internet, lol.

Speaking of errrors I have an amazing much loved beta, Octoberland who does her best to polish these chapters for me. If you do find mistakes those would be mine, not hers.

* * *

Chapter 34 Falling...

**Bella's POV**

_Midnight. I can tell because the moon is high above me, perfectly centered and concentric. White light as pure and unfiltered and luminescent as ever I've seen spills down over everything. The trees host pale silver leaves, the bark of their trunks tinged in reflections of that same silver, crystallizing the tiny drops of moisture that cling to them until everything glows. The ground is blanketed in mist, cool and ghostly sinuous as it curls around my bare ankles like a living entity._

_White silk brushes my knees like a caress as it floats down over my body from the nightgown I wear. Hugging every curve, delicate and cool and sensuous. My skin tingles and aches with awareness as I move deeper into the silver forest completely enchanted by its spell._

_I feel him. Watching, admiring. The power of it is arousing, thrilling. I spin and the silk flares while the mist swirls, damp and cool against my skin that now feels hot with awareness and need. I expect to see him behind me, but all I see is darkness. Swallowing all the beautiful silver light, greedy and breathing and alive._

_"Edward?"_

_When he doesn't answer my heart aches with a deeper pulse than even that of my body. I was so certain he was close. I need him. So much, so desperately. I need his touch, his comforting hold, the coolness of his skin to balance out the heat in mine._

_The darkness behind me seems to move forward, reaching out as though seeking an embrace. My feet move unseen beneath the mist carrying me further through the silver tinged woods away from the seeking fingers of shadows that extend outward from the darkness._

_Through the dense cropping of trees I move quickly until suddenly I'm in an open space. It reminds me of the meadow, but dripping with silver and carpeted in mist it's impossible to tell for sure. I move farther into the space letting the silver light surround me completely now that there are no barriers blocking its full radiance. If ever there was a place Edward would be it would be this one. This beautiful fairytale place full of light and magic and sparkle. It feels like such a long time since I've felt the light. A lifetime ago I'd existed here, believed in the fairytale._

_The darkness now surrounds the entire space. Swallowing the trees and forest growth in impossibly deep shadows. Visually impenetrable they extend beyond the limits of my human sight. Not frightening, but as familiar as home. As familiar as the dark, wet pulse of my own heartbeat, throbbing out its familiar safe tempo. Matching the rhythm of the thoughts that control me now. Dark, relentless, needy._

_Slipping back to the possible meadow's edge, I trail my fingers through the inky blackness. Each digit coated in moonlight one second, swallowed by dark the next. It has its own texture, like tepid bathwater, comforting, soothing, sucking. Calling to me in silent adulation, wanting me the same way I want Edward._

_Edward._

_Turning back to the light I move slowly to the center of the meadow where it falls the brightest and suddenly arms surround me from behind. Cool and marble like, the body behind me as solid as stone. Smiling, I curl my hands around his forearms, feeling the impossible strength contained in the smooth skin and the odd flex of steel forged muscle. His breath on my neck is sweet and cool, his lips ghosting over the skin of my shoulder a thousand times sweeter. The moonlight doesn't make his skin sparkle but it does make it luminescent and radiant as though it absorbs the very rays falling down around us. His hands move down from my waist and over my hips and thighs, leaving a wake of sensation beneath them on every inch of skin he caresses. My breath breaks from my throat in a moaning sigh, a plea wrapped in the syllables of his name._

_"Edward."_

_His hands continue moving until they reach the hem of my nightgown where he slowly bunches the material into his palms. Slowly rising it up past my knees, fingers gliding like cold butterfly wings against each revealed inch of naked skin. Up, up, up. The mist swirls loosely at the movement touching my naked thighs that glow pale in the light, making me shiver as its cool breath touches my heated core._

_The aching warmth between my legs bursts into an inferno, coating me in liquid fire._

_"My love," he whispers, though the lips that have moved to my neck do not open or move in the shape of the words. It's as though his voice fills my mind, making me ache in new ways with new desires. I want to open my own mind to him. Let him in, share what his touch does to me without using the sounds that could break the spell of this place._

_The nightgown has nearly reached the tops of my thighs and I start to tremble, try to turn. His arms are immovable keeping me locked against him._

_"You are the embodiment of all that I have lost." He whispers in my mind. "My beating heart, my life." His lips ghost over the pulse beneath my ear. "My soul, my heat." Cold fingers slip past the small amount of fabric that still covers my most private place, finding the heat that spills from me. My knees buckle with an intense wave of pleasure but as always he is my anchor, keeping me upright, not letting me fall. "My sanctuary, my every mortal desire. You, always you, my love."_

_And then I am alone. Lost in moonlight and stars and silver fairytale meadow without an anchor. The loss sends me to the ground on my knees in the mist. All the trees bordering the edge begin to burn. Perfect flaming infinity symbols. One after the other, after the other, after the other..._

**Edward's POV**

I can still read Charlie's sister's thoughts. They seem uncommonly loud in the otherwise suffocating silence that Bella's gift is enforcing. She looks annoyed at Esme's attempts to keep her from Bella and turns to me the second I step from the house with an expression of mixed alacrity and apprehension. She is not immune to the feeling we engender in so many humans, but like Charlie she is far too practical of mind to give it more than a passing thought. She does as always however, manage to keep a bit of a distance between her and I.

"Hello, Edward."

"Julie." I offer her one of my more ingratiating smiles. Now is not the time to deal with an alarmed overprotective family member.

"I was just telling your Mother that I'm concerned about Charlie. I wondered if Carlisle had seen him maybe?" Her eyes flit from mine to Carlisle as he comes out the door behind me. Where I had failed to elicit much of a calming response with my smile, Carlisle is ten times more successful.

"Good morning, Julie," he greets her warmly. "I did in fact see Charlie this morning. He came by early and had breakfast with us. I'm sorry you were worried."

She nods, her thoughts telling me she accepts his word as truth, though something still has her worried. "Do you know if he was going somewhere else after? I haven't heard from him and he didn't take his medication this morning. I know because I always leave his pills out for him on the counter in case he gets up before I do, and they were still there when I left. And he didn't take the bottles with him either. He'll miss his afternoon dose as well if he doesn't come home soon."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Charlie decided to spend the rest of the morning fishing, Julie." Carlisle offers with a small laugh. "It's perfect weather for the fish to be biting. I can't see him passing up the opportunity."

Julie bites her lip, a Bella reminiscent move that really is the only similarity between herself and her niece, either physically or otherwise. "I suppose." She sounds less than convinced, a fact I can read easily in her mind as her eyes sweep suspiciously around the yard as though expecting him to jump out and yell April fools months too late.

"And don't worry too much about the medication. Charlie is doing so well he can afford to skip a dose or two without a repercussion." Carlisle is lying through his teeth, but Julie's shoulders instantly relax into a more natural line. With that small lessening of tension I can now discern the true worry in her thoughts. She reaches into her purse and withdraws the object she'd just been thinking of and until this moment wasn't sure she wanted to share.

"I found this. In the trash in his room." Once again her eyes flit to mine. The wariness and suspicion are just as easy to read in her eyes as it is in her mind. "I understand he's got secrets," she says quietly and directly to me. "I'm not blind. Ever since I got here, he's been different. At first I thought it was just a normal reaction to getting shot. Even for a police officer it has to be traumatic. But the longer it went on the more I realized there's more going on to all this."

I allow her thoughts to play out, searching her mind hoping to find the answer she'd like to hear. She takes a step closer to me.

"I've decided to go home. I decided last night actually. Charlie's been after me for the past week, telling me he's okay even though I can see he's not. Last night though, I finally saw that I'm a bit in over my head. I've got my own family to think about as well and . . . " She shakes her head. "I wanted to say good-bye to him, but I guess . . . I left him a note . . . "

The train of her thoughts takes an unexpected turn. "What happened last night?" My tone alarms her and the step she'd taken toward me is quickly lost in the two she takes back. Still, she answers readily enough.

"Charlie got a phone call from the station. It upset him so much. I've never seen him like that. He wouldn't even talk to me for hours. Apparently there was a suicide on the Reservation yesterday. A young Quileute girl. He said Bella didn't know her, but she would have been around Bella's age I believe. Poor thing. I think her name was . . . Leah. Yes, that's it. Leah Clearwater."

****

Charlie's POV

The walk back to the truck takes more energy than I think I have. Somehow I make it and lean heavily against the door to catch my breath. The area around me still looks deserted, but it doesn't feel that way. Try as I might though I can't see anything that tells me I'm not alone. I'd like to think I could go by the way I feel to get the answer, but my instincts are all screwed up. I feel like I've got eyes on me from every direction.

Glancing back through the trees in the direction I just came from I can't see anything. Billy couldn't have followed me if he wanted to, and still the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I'm almost tempted to go back just to try and figure out what the hell he's doing. I wonder if he's still just sitting there on the dock doing the weird thing he can obviously do. I'm not even going to pretend I really understand any of that. Billy had told me lots of legends over the years, but knowing a good part of them is true has taken away the entertainment value I'd always regarded them with.

It occurs to me suddenly that I hadn't mentioned a word about the girl. Nor had he. Not that I'd been in any hurry to discuss the grisly details. What that girl had done to herself is a horror I can't imagine, but my mind keeps trying. The pain in my chest isn't just physical when I think about it. I've known Sue Clearwater as long as I've known Billy. That her kid is just another casualty in this entirely screwed up nightmare mess is enough to make the gorge rise in my throat, never mind the horrific details.

I knew all about her involvement of course. Sue had taken over her husband's Elder position and she's just as much a player in all this as her own daughter had been. Ever since Carlisle and Edward had explained that girl's actions I'd struggled with it. Edward felt she was mentally unbalanced. The stress of the change from human to werewolf had apparently messed her up just as much as Jacob. Maybe more. Something inherent in the werewolf nature is a volatility that makes them unpredictable. Sets them up for emotional instability. It was a complicated crap load of crap and I was sick to death of trying to wrap my head around it. Bottom line. Jacob Black and his obsession with my daughter had started everything. I truly believe that if it weren't for him the Pack would have stayed more neutral and with it the Elders, Billy included. So I'm staying with the original plan. I've gotta cut this off at the source. One way or the other.

****

Edward's POV

Bella is still asleep. Almost unnaturally so. She's stopped her restless movements. In fact she's so still that if it weren't for her deep breathing and her steady heartbeat someone would be hard pressed to know she was even alive. I've never seen her this still. The air in the entire bedroom feels permeated with a presence strong enough to hold her captive in sleep. Not even my low growl affects her.

"You think he's in her dreams." Alice stands by my side, a worried frown puckering her normally unblemished features. "You should wake her."

"No."

"Edward, she has a right . . . "

"No. The Shaman has no power over her free will. Bella's mind is her own. I can't even be certain he's with her now. Not when her shield is so strong. And her body is beyond exhausted, it really isn't any wonder if she sleeps so deeply." If I could still hear Alice's thoughts, I'm certain she would be calling me a self delusional ass. She may be right, but the danger lies not in Billy's influence over anything she dreams. It lies in her waking. The less she knows about what I'm doing right now the better for all of us. I will not let her conscience be bothered by things she cannot control. By acting as jury, judge and executioner I pray I can spare her guilt and needless pain or remorse.

"That isn't what I mean and you know it. Don't make this decision without her, Edward. It's a mistake."

Ignoring Alice, I lean down and brush a soft kiss over Bella's cheek, another at the corner of her slightly parted lips, drinking in the warmth of her slow exhalations. "My love," I whisper, hoping to give her something to cling to in her dreams. "You are the embodiment of all that I have lost . . . " As each word passes my lips her body seems to grow more and more relaxed.

I take in her scent one last time, drawing it deeply into my lungs like an oxygen starved mortal. Though I have no intention of allowing anything to happen to me, I still want to take as much of her with me as I can.

Behind me I hear Carlisle in the hallway. Knowing the time has come I force myself to leave her, touching Alice's shoulder once before closing the door.

Unable to read Carlisle's thoughts, I'm forced to wait for him to share what has him looking so stressed. Finally he turns from his pacing and stands in front of me.

"Does the child's death change nothing for you, Edward?"

"That child was part of the reason Bella has suffered. Part of the reason she nearly died." My voice is a snarl, a tone I've never taken before with Carlisle and he draws back looking surprised. "So no, it changes nothing. If anything it only makes me more determined to end this once and for all. Or do you think the Pack or the Elders or Jacob Black for that matter won't want to make someone pay for her loss? We've lost the luxury of time Carlisle and you have to know that. Something is going to happen and even if my decision had not already been made, Leah's suicide is nothing if not the element that forces my hand."

Carlisle's frown deepens. "So much of this seems senseless. Like a snowball that's absorbed an avalanche. Growing as it spirals farther and farther out of control."

"Do not expect me to mourn that girl, Carlisle. Neither should you. Or have you forgotten what she did? She came to me to confess what she had done. To gloat one last time and to buy Jacob time to run. She wanted death then, and I would have given it to her without a second thought if the Pack had not interfered. She found another way to get what she wanted, but if she stood before me now my choice to end her life would be the same."

He shakes his head and this time I'm grateful I cannot hear his mind. I'm done with discussing my decision. "I'm going to get Charlie before this escalates. I need you to get the car, meet me there and take him somewhere safe." Snapping open my phone I call Jasper quickly, already racing for the door leaving Carlisle to stew in his own thoughts if he must.

"Stop Charlie," I tell Jasper curtly. "Leah Clearwater is dead. Apparently she took her own life last night. I can no longer allow him to get anywhere near Jacob or the Pack. Be extra vigilant, Jasper. Until I get there keep him calm but do not allow him to leave. Watch your back."

The Pack is obviously reeling from Leah's unexpected death. That she took her own life will not matter long in the grief that will follow. The stakes are once again rising. I have a limited amount of time to use this to my advantage. The clock is ticking.

**Charlie's POV**

One minute the keys are in my hand headed for the ignition, the next my hand is empty. My brain is slow and I find myself looking down at my feet as though I'd dropped them, though I know damn well I didn't. The voice near my ear ends the delusion neatly.

"Going somewhere Chief Swan?"

Turning I'm confronted by a grinning Emmett Cullen. He easily takes up the entire doorframe and my keys are nowhere in sight. Glancing at the front windshield I see Jasper calmly closing the hood of the truck. I have a feeling if I had keys the truck still wouldn't start. Refusing to be intimidated even though I know it's useless I glare at him.

"I was headed home. Any particular reason you're stopping me from doing so?" Playing dumb is just as useless and his growing grin proves it. Jasper comes around the other side, climbing quietly into the passenger seat.

"Charlie." His tone is one of greeting, as though he just came across me and hasn't been following me all morning. I just barely resist the urge to pound on the steering wheel.

"Jasper." I imitate his tone and he smiles faintly.

"End of the road I'm afraid. I'm sure you can understand that we can't let you go after Jacob. I did tell you that in a fashion this morning. It's a pity you didn't save all of us the trouble of having to track you here."

"I doubt it was much trouble," I reply sarcastically.

"I'm kind of insulted Chief," Emmett chimes in. "I get that Bella's your daughter, but do you honestly think we can't take care of her?"

"This isn't about that." Feeling confined I grab the handle of the door and push out of the vehicle slamming it shut behind me. To have come this close . . . Stalking to the front of the truck I jerk open the hood and search for whatever might have been tampered with or removed. As soon as the hood is up blocking me for a second from their view, I grab the map out of my pocket and shove it down into one of the dark recesses near the engine block.

"Pray tell me then, Charlie. What is it about? Because I have to agree with my brother. I feel a little insulted."

Edward.

Damn.

Turning around slowly I face the one person I was really hoping I wouldn't see again today.

****

Edward's POV

"You can't do this. I'm not going to let you do this."

I'd smile if I wasn't so full of the need to move. "Exactly what is it you think you're not going to let me do?"

"Don't play games with me, Edward. You need to go back home and take care of Bella. Or did you forget that you promised me you'd do that?"

"Hardly," I reply refusing to be provoked. "Which is precisely why I'm here."

His shoulders sag, but I'm not buying the image of defeat. I can't see anything in his thoughts yet I know him well enough to know he isn't about to give up without a fight. I don't have time for a fight. A sense of urgency is pounding down around me growing with each moment of delay. Being unable to hear any thoughts has left my mind clear and unencumbered. I'm more than ready for what is to come. If my blood could boil, it would.

"Edward, listen to me. I can do this. I can talk to Jacob, get him to consent to coming in. There has to be something human left in him."

"You know as well as I do, Charlie that there isn't. It's why you threw this out." I hold his badge out to him and watch him blanch. "Why the only thing you brought with you today is your gun."

His face undergoes yet another metamorphosis, this time twisting into anger. The human mind so easily transitions between its emotions.

"She is _my_ daughter. I'm partly to blame for what's happened to her. All of it. Even you." He watches my expression carefully after he spits out his words, his cheeks mottling a furious red. His mind continues to stay beneath whatever shield Bella has him under. "If I'd never screwed up my marriage. If I would've followed Renee, given her the life she wanted away from Forks . . . Bella would have never been here . . . She would've been . . . safe."

His heartbeat is dangerously elevated, and Jasper and Emmett hearing the same look at me with concern. Reaching into my pocket I rapidly text Carlisle without removing the phone. He's already on his way but I'm feeling a growing unease at Charlie's state of health. The delays are frustrating and underneath it all I'm aware of the ticking chasm of time. I can't yet sense them but the wolves can't be far. There are too many of us in this clearing for them not to be aware of our presence. Given what I've learned of Leah's death, I have no indicator for their mood other than to assume they will want blood nearly as much as I do. My normally rock solid limbs practically quiver with the need to tear into flesh and bone and render it into unrecognizable pieces. Something of that must show in my face because Charlie expression changes yet again to one of wariness. In an effort to calm him I force my own expression into one of ease.

"Do you know how many times I've saved Bella's life, Charlie? More times than I care to relate to you now." I soften the words with a small smile and shake of my head. "She is a magnet it would seem for everything from vans driven by careless teenage boys to evil men who walk dark alleys to the supernatural. You can hardly blame yourself for what Bella attracts."

"I put her in the middle of all that," he snarls. "Me and my poor decisions. Remember why Jacob was in the house in the first place that night? I left him alone with her. You. You told me, Edward, that my life should have been forfeit. You were right, but you let me live. Then Billy with his voodoo magic. There is a reason for all that. I need to stop Jacob, before the Pack can't control him anymore. I need to do this to make amends for the wrongs I've done."

I can see how much he believes his words to be true. A man like him rights wrongs, uses a badge and law and morals to govern his world, and yet when his only child is threatened he'll throw all of that away to protect her. A part of me almost wants him to have what he wants. Just as I will have no peace until Jacob Black's dog body is silent and still and buried, I suspect neither will he.

"If Jacob was a man, Charlie. I would let you do what you feel you need to. But he isn't." My impatience shows in my tone. "You have to stop trying to fit all of this," my arm sweeps wide indicating myself and the entire surrounding area, "into a neat package of right and wrong." I soften my tone and place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing hard enough to emphasize my strength. "You say you believe your mistakes have placed Bella where she is now. Once upon a time I thought the same thing of myself. I left. Do you remember what my leaving did to her, Charlie?" His eyes darken with the force of those memories, each one still an agony for him. "I nearly destroyed her. I did destroy a part of her. What was left I forced into Jacob's open arms. I started this. The day I laid eyes on her and didn't have the strength to stay away. The time where I was too weak to be who she needed me to be, to believe in us the way she did. I started this, Charlie. By being what I am, by loving her beyond reason or sanity or natural order. I started this. I will finish it."

I can hear Carlisle's car now, speeding down the dirt and gravel road toward us. Reaching out with my mind I find Billy, still where he's been since I arrived. True to Jasper's earlier testament he remains in some quiet trance-like state. His thoughts are not blocked from me. Yet each one is indecipherable, as though coded in a language and frequency I cannot read. Pushing harder reveals nothing more than a sense of something, a spider like web of mist that flexes but refuses to be moved. I push the same way against the silence that blocks me from Jasper and Emmett and Carlisle and Charlie, surprised to feel the same element flexing, shifting but resilient and unmovable.

Turning to Jasper I shake my head. "The silence in my head is heavier. Do you sense anything?"

"No."

"Emmett, I don't know if I'll hear the wolves."

He tips his head back inhaling deeply and then shakes his head. "Not close. Not yet."

Gritting my teeth, I turn back to Charlie. He's slumped back against the truck. His face no longer mottled by red is now bleached and gray. My hand moves from his shoulder to his chest, resting my palm over his still too rapidly beating heart.

"I know," he says trying in vain to push my hand away. "Ever since I woke up in that hospital I've known I've been living on borrowed time so you need to listen to me, Edward. Put aside your damn ego and listen to me, son. You may have lived longer than I have, but I know things about forgiveness and love that you don't. Bella will forgive me. She'll forgive me for what I did and she'll forgive me for what I will do. She'll be sad, she may even be angry, but she will eventually be okay."

"No." I drop my hand from his chest counting the seconds till Carlisle arrives. I am frustrated beyond reason by this needless arguing and delaying. His refusal to accept his limitations is beginning to infuriate me.

"Yes," he yells. "Damn it, Edward. You asked me if I remembered when you left, what it did to her. You know damn well that I do. Those memories are burned into my head, I won't ever forget. I think maybe if you'd stayed away, she might have found something in Jacob to live for. And maybe he would have found a way to beat down whatever side of him controls him now. But she still would never have been whole. She would have lived as half a person. A second rate life." He shakes his head angrily, his breath coming in stuttered taxed waves.

"A part of me always knew that, no matter how stubborn I was I always saw the difference even if I wouldn't admit it. Even before you came into her life she was living half of it. She was never whole until you. You lit her up from the inside out and when you left it was like all the light drained right out of her. Whatever spark Jacob kindled it never compared." He's desperate now to make me see reason. Like me he seems to hear the relentless ticking of an invisible clock. "It was a damn joke in comparison. A pale weak sickly thing giving her just enough strength to go through the motions. And that was then. Ask yourself, Edward. Ask yourself God damn it. If she loses you now what will that do to her? She survived it once, she won't survive it again and you know it."

The last of his energy seems to drain from him with his argument. His fists unclench and he leans back even heavier against the frame of the truck. A greasy film of sweat breaks out over his face and as Carlisle pulls his vehicle up beside us I fear our argument has cost him more than just his temporary strength.

Carlisle appears beside him with his black medical bag in hand and I see Charlie start slightly in surprise. Urging Charlie to sit on the grass and lean against the tire he instantly administers a dose of Aspirin, placing it neatly in Charlie's mouth without giving him a chance to argue. His fingers deftly open Charlie's shirt so he can use his stethoscope to listen even closer to his heart, though it's mostly unnecessary for someone with our enhanced sense of hearing.

"I'm fine," Charlie grouses, trying to push himself up. Emmett places one firm hand on his shoulder almost nonchalantly. He needs an inconsequential amount of his strength to keep Charlie immobile. Most of his attention remains on the woods beside us.

"I beg to differ, Charlie," Carlisle answers, a hint of sarcasm to his tone. "You're having a heart attack." Filling a syringe with the beta-blocker Atenolol, he turns to me. I don't need to read his mind to see his concern.

"An ambulance is already on its way." He tells me. "Jasper, get the IV tubing and saline solution from the car. Emmett, Nitroglycerin. Right pocket in my bag."

Crouching down in front of Charlie, I study his face. His ashen color and unsteady breathing do nothing to belie the stubborn expression he still clings to. Though even he must know he's reached his limit. I search my own mind for something I can say that will convince him to fight for his life once again.

"I have asked myself what will happen to Bella if something happens to me Charlie." I tell him softly. "The answer of course is unacceptable. Which means, nothing can happen to me. I'm not a fool, Charlie. I know what I am. I know what I'm capable of. I'm not about to risk my life. You have to trust me."

His answer tells me he doesn't. "I'm not telling you where Jacob is."

Ignoring his almost childlike taunt, I continue to pin him with my eyes once again allowing him to see some of what lies beneath my normal facade of humanity. "I asked you once to live so you would not add to Bella's pain, and to earn her forgiveness and mine. This isn't the way to do either of those things Charlie. Bella needs her Father. Remember that."

I step back as the ambulance pulls in and watch as they load him inside. Too weak to resist he nevertheless keeps his eyes on me the entire time. If I could read his mind I imagine he would be pleading with me. Just before the paramedic closes the doors, he whispers something he knows I'll hear even if no one else does.

"She needs you more, Edward. Remember _that_."

As the ambulance pulls out onto the road its lights flashing silently with no traffic and no need for sirens, Jasper comes to stand beside me. "He's right you know," he says quietly. "She does."

"Yes." Again, mentally blind I cannot decipher why he says it, I can only acknowledge the truth of it.

"All the more reason why this needs to end now." He grins slightly and Emmett joins him holding out a closed fist.

"And the reason _we've_ got his back, brother." Their fists coming together sound like crashing stone. My attention however, is focused on my Father. Even as the ambulance vanishes from sight he still remains with his back to me. Having no insight into his thoughts, I move to stand beside him.

"This changes nothing for me, Carlisle." I nearly tack on an apology at the end. Not for my unchanging desire to avenge, but for the disappointment I'm certain he feels for my inability to do so. His head turns to me so fast it's almost too much even for my perception. His eyes are black. For the first time I see a reflection of my own rage mirrored back at me in his.

"Do you know where he is?"

Removing the piece of paper Charlie had unsuccessfully tried to hide in the Explorer's engine compartment from my pocket, I nod. The paper had barely left Charlie's hand before it had been in mine. One cursory glance had been all I needed. Carlisle only needs the same.

"This isn't your fight," I remind him quietly and his eyes snap turning an even deeper shade of night.

Beneath his suddenly curled fingers the paper is crushed. His fingers move almost imperceptibly, shredding the map until it is nothing more than tiny scraps. When he unclenches his fist the pieces scatter like dandelion fluff in the breeze. "I told the Pack and the Elders that I would tolerate no more interference with my family. Now the Father of the daughter I consider just as much mine is once again fighting for his life. All while the same daughter he and I both failed to protect lives in constant danger." His voice turns sibilant with a coating of venom. "No more, Edward. My compassion is not limitless after all. We end this, and we end it now. Our family won't suffer any longer for their lack of control over themselves and each other."

"Yes," Emmett hisses.

"Blood for blood," Jasper murmurs as they both move to either side of Carlisle and I.

As one we move to the edge of the woods, the invisible border of Quileute land almost tangible to our heightened senses. Inside of each one of us the binds so carefully locked over decades and centuries into the guise of human movement and facades slip away. Any human being that crossed our paths now would instantly know we are something very different from their own kind. Their fear would be incapacitating yet brief. In this frame of true mind mercy is not something we understand.

"So silent," Jasper intones in a way that embodies the deep musical softness we normally work so hard to control. "What are they waiting for?"

The wind drifts towards us with only the faintest scent of wolves. To the right of us Billy is moving. Dragging his useless limbs up from his chair into his vehicle, starting the engine, using the modified hand controls to maneuver and power the car onto the road. No matter how fast he drives he won't reach Jacob before I do.

"They're waiting for us to make the first move."

Emmett growls. "And we're waiting for?"

"Nothing," I hiss, and my feet soundlessly cross the invisible line.

****

Bella's POV

_On my knees without Edward to hold me up the mist swirls and encloses. I can feel the now familiar stirring of a panic attack threatening the edges of my reason._

_"Bella."_

_The voice coincides perfectly with the increased burning of the infinity symbols on each tree. The heat reaches me even here in the center of the silver meadow, now rapidly turning to hues of red and orange. The helpless feeling reaching out to take me under dissipates beneath the heat, reigniting the now familiar feeling of anger. The now very much welcomed and longed for anger. Lifting my head I see him. Billy. He sits in his chair in the mist that now seems to writhe around us absorbing the colors of flame and hate._

_"You." The word is a snarl torn from a too tight throat._

_"We are running out of time, Bella. You have to make a decision."_

_"So you'd have me believe." I find myself on my feet with no conscience thought to do so. "What if I choose nothing?"_

_"Then the end result will be the same as if you choose the dark over the light."_

_"I don't need the light."_

_"Don't you?" The chair disappears and he too is now on his feet. He holds out his hand to me beseechingly. "Let me show you, Bella."_

_"No." I want to be strong, but even as I deny him I can feel the longing for the light._

_"Look," he pleads, and despite myself I do. The darkness parts and the trees as well. In the newly open space beyond us lies the real meadow. Green grass and wildflowers dappled in sunlight. A mirage like image of Edward and me lies on the cool fragrant moist ground, facing one another. A more innocent time. We don't touch one another and yet our eyes say everything. A thousand silent promises of a love not quite realized spinning like pollen in the air around us. Everything is so ripe with endless possibility. In my world of flame colored mist my throat closes and tears drop from my eyes to evaporate instantly in the engulfing heat._

_"This is where you belong, child. You and him, together in the light. In the possibility of an endless lifetime together. You saved him from the dark. Will you condemn him back into those same shadows?"_

_Despite the longing I feel to be in that place it seems a million miles away. "That was then," I whisper past the tears and the throat clenching ache. "It was a stupid fairytale. He always knew it was. He tried to tell me . . . "_

_"You made him believe. You can make him believe again. You don't have to live in a place of darkness. Find it in your heart to forgive. Stop what you know is happening."_

_"I can't." It's true. I can't find it in me to forgive._

_"Repercussions will follow you always, Bella. One day your hate will fade. No fire can burn forever, and then you will be in the darkness you've created."_

_"Then so be it. There is always a price to pay. If this is mine, I consider it cheap."_

_"You won't be alone in that darkness. Your actions pull in everyone around you. All that you love, all that you strive even now to protect. You will condemn them all and pay a price greater than even you can imagine."_

_His words strengthen my anger. "How can you say that? How can you? You who knows the price I've already paid."_

_"Your wounds were created by hate and anger. You cannot heal them with more of the same. You'll only cut them deeper into your soul." In contrast to mine his tone of voice is even. No longer pleading but matter of fact. Reason battling with unreason. His eyes are gentle. Back in his chair once again he's the Billy I've known since childhood._

_I feel part of the anger slip, replaced by familiar fear and helplessness. Will I force those around me to be swallowed by the same rage that consumes me?_

_"You will destroy yourself."_

_"I don't care." It isn't true, not really, but I can't see a way out. Not one that will give me any peace. "There's nothing left anyway. You know that, Billy. Look at me. I don't even know who I am anymore."_

_"You will destroy what you love."_

_The fear threatens to consume me again. Terrified of its hold I push it away, reach for the comfort of the flames. As they engulf me again like a protective buffer, a laugh as dark as the shadow world that lives behind the burning symbols bubbles up from my throat. The tears stop as quickly as they came. "No," I hiss at him, my voice oddly reminiscent of that of the vampire I hope one day to be. "I will destroy what **you** love."_

_The symbols burn harder, deeper. The sound of crackling wood rises into the night. The color of silver, the magic of this place vanishes completely. My hair snaps with electricity, blowing in the air that rushes in to feed the flames. The golden sunlight filled meadow vanishes like the pathetic memory it is._

_"Get out of my head," I cry. "Get out of my head and go to hell. You and your son both." The symbols no longer resemble infinity. Instead the fire races up the trunks of each tree swallowing their entire mass until the flames are an inferno._

_Like a camera snapping a photograph over and over, Billy's image disappears and reappears. Each time he's farther and farther away like invisible hands are pushing him from me._

_Eventually he vanishes completely and I'm alone with nothing but my burning hate_.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. This chapter is for all of you because you're the reason I post what I write. :) I didn't get a chance to reply to many but please know I read everyone and value them all. Thanks as well to my beta Octoberland who's been busy with the business of real life but responded to my urgent plea and sacrificed her own time to edit this chapter for me. Again, any missed errors would be the result of my ceaseless tinkering and not her fault at all.

Chapter 35 Beyond...

_And so it begins...._

**Bella's POV**

__

Everything around me is charred. The trees, the grass, all of it, blackened and smoking. Endless acres of nothing except fire ravaged forest and ground. The earth under my feet is littered with countless broken branches, smouldering and reeking of acrid smoke. Shades of gray and black in endless combinations.

The meadow is nothing more now than an empty space. No wildflowers, no grass. Even the rocks and crags are soot stained and scorched. Nothing lives, nothing moves. Endless possibility is now nothing more than endless devastation.

This is what the aftermath looks like, I think to myself.

I've never seen anything so desolate.

Reaching out to one charred stump, I run my fingers over it and watch as it crumbles to gray ash beneath my touch. Losing all form and substance. I wonder if someone touches me if this is what will happen to my body? Am I as charred and burned from the inside as these things in front of me now?

Was this ever really what I wanted?

Something moves at the corner of my vision. A blur of gray and brown shifting just beyond the deepest border of burned trees. Moving quickly I climb across fallen trunks and branches feeling the scrape of their hot flesh against my own. Small piles of soot beneath my feet stir up white ash to spin through the air like snowflakes. A sudden need to find some kind of life in all this death spurs me on faster.

There.

The wolf and I come face to face just beyond a small clear space. For a second my heart flutters as if it has grown wings created from panic. But the feeling vanishes as quickly as it came. This is no werewolf. The body is too small. Lithe and beautiful and bred to exist in the human world, she regards me with an aloof interest. She seems unharmed by the fire that destroyed the place she surely lived. That anything could survive the flames and heat I'd unleashed here fills me with a sense of peace. Perhaps I hadn't destroyed everything after all.

"Where's your pack?" I murmur to her softly. "Are you alone like me?"

A small whimper seems to answer my query and she lowers her head to rest it on her front paws. Her beautiful deep gray eyes turn to look to the right of us and I follow them to see a cemetery I'd never seen before.

Old and abandoned and nearly as charred as the woods around it. It seems to call to me, and when I move the wolf stays close behind, her paws silent and sure where my feet stumble and crack through the mess of debris.

Headstones lined neatly in rows upon rows flow over the ground. Smoothed into anonymity by age, I cannot read the faint dips and curves that had once revealed names and dates. The wolf slips around me and her soft fur brushes my calves as she passes. Sensing she wants me to follow, I leave the stones I cannot read and move deeper into the rows of headstones. I find her several columns in. Sitting before another stone, one just as equally old and weathered as the others. And yet somehow this one I know. My fingers follow the dips and faded patterns and reveal a name.

Sam Uley.

And the stone beside it, Seth Clearwater, then Paul, Quil, Embry, Colin... All of them. The entire Pack, long dead and buried. Nothing more now than dust beneath the ground.

"Why show me this?" I whisper to her, a knot of fear and disgust and lingering anger forming in my guts.

She's at the last headstone now. Laying with her head once again on her paws, a look of unfathomable sadness in her beautiful eyes. I don't need to touch my fingers to the engravings this time. Each letter is crystal clear and sharp. The newness of the etched name startling and stark surrounded as it is by the pale whispers of the identities the others bear.

Leah Clearwater.

My eyes close and my heart breaks because I never wanted this. No matter what she did. I never wanted this. When I open them again she's gone. The cemetery is gone. Once again I'm alone in a charred forest and a meadow stripped of all possibility.

**"You will destroy all that you love."**

Not the ones who lie beneath blankets of dirt. That was never what Billy meant. The dead don't feel remorse or pain or guilt. But the ones who live in the aftermath with blood stained hands and blood soaked consciences. Those are the ones who will truly suffer. Edward, living forever with the perfect irrefutable proof that he is what he's always believed himself to be. A monster.

Yes, Billy may want to save his son, but I missed the bigger picture. By saving Jacob he will also save me and in some small way make amends for what his son did, to me, to Charlie. By giving me the one thing I need to let it all go. Edward. Not who he believes himself to be, but who **I** believe him to be.

Not a monster. Never that.

I need to wake up.

**Edward's POV**

The treaty isn't just broken. It's smashed. We've done the ultimate act of declaration. Crossed into Quileute land. And still the Pack makes no moves. I can sense them now. Whatever Bella's shield is capable of apparently it isn't stopping me from reading them. A part of my mind has been endlessly occupied with theories of why that might be ever since we'd discovered what she is capable of. I shut that part down now, using it and all parts of me to focus on the task at hand. With the concentration comes a greater sense of everything around me. From the restless wildlife that flees at our passing to the minute changes in air and land from one footstep to the next.

The Pack finally moves to intercede, but not as I would have thought. Instead they fall in around us and behind us. Keeping pace and still unseen in the incredibly dense forest. Once again they are using their wolf senses to focus only on their surroundings. What they see, sense, smell, feel. The same way they had the night they'd taken Bella from the hospital. I push around and beneath their focus to find the slips I would have previously missed. A thought of growing anxiety from Embry. One of frustration and anger from Paul.

__

Keep moving.

Sam Uley. A barked order at Seth Clearwater. Seth whose gentle mind and friendship had once been a gift. Now he and I are whatever he'll choose us to be. I will not harm him or any of the others so long as they stay out of my way and don't try to get in between Jacob and I.

"What are they doing, Edward?" Jasper asks from behind. "Their emotions are completely conflicted. I've never felt anything like this before from them."

Sam's thoughts answer Jasper's question, loud and clear in my mind as he directs his thoughts straight at me.

__

We knew you'd come eventually vampire. It was only a matter of time. We'll take you where you want to go. Whatever happens won't happen on Quileute land. Do you understand?

"They want us off Quileute land," I tell him. "The other Elders are gathering at the border where they're keeping him." I keep none of the rage I feel from my tone. A small whimper from one of the youngest and newest pack members tells me the message I want to convey is clear. "The Pack has grown," I say out loud as much to impart the information to them as to us, wanting them to know I see it as no threat, I do so with a slight mocking tone. I count three new minds. Each one barely pubescent, no more than 13 years of age. Their fear is a scent in the air that further calls to what we are.

__

They are nothing to you, Edward Cullen. They've been ordered to observe nothing more. Unless directly attacked they will not engage in any type of fight with you or your family. I want your word they will not be harmed, no matter what happens now.

In my mind I easily envision the annihilation of the entire pack. I see no reason should it turn into a fight that I could find sense in letting any of them live to one day create a new conflict. And yet it goes against all that I used to be to slaughter children. One of the youngest minds slips from concentration and longs for its Mother's arms. The slip is short-lived and shame filled but it cements my thoughts.

"You have it," I say to him, "on the conditions you've applied. One wrong move and they will lose all exemption." No matter my conscience my desire for retribution is stronger. I will have it, one way or the other.

Sam's reply is a low throated growl, and his speed instantly increases until he is in front of us. Encircled by a torn Pack we move as one through Quileute forest to the very edge of their land.

****

Bella's POV

I can't wake up. Everything around me is black. I float in it without substance or form, somewhere in between being awake and asleep.

__

"This is wrong, Rose. Tell me you know it is."

Alice. I can hear her but I can't see her. I have no idea where she is; whether she is a figment of my mind or real.

_"I don't know anything, Alice."_

_"You wanted him to give her the choice."_

_Rose snorts a sound full of disdain. Their voices are so far away... "He's made his mind up Alice, you know as well as I do nothing is going to change it."_

What? I want to ask. What has he made his mind up about? I push against the darkness but it won't budge.

A cool hand brushes my forehead and I try to turn towards the touch only to find I'm paralyzed. Completely and utterly paralyzed. I'm not sure I even have a body to move. There is no sense of self where I am.

"_Why doesn't she wake up?"_

I'm trying, I tell them with a voice with no sound. Help me. Help me wake up.

"_Maybe it's better if she doesn't_

It's Esme. Esme's voice and hand. Again I try to turn towards it_."When she wakes it will all be over. We'll take her away then. Somewhere quiet and peaceful where she can heal. Carlisle and I already have it all planned. Alaska is beautiful this time of year. And in time Edward will change her and all of this will just be a very distant hazy memory. One without substance."_

_"I should be there, not here."_ Rose's voice again, full of irritation.

Where, I scream. Where should you be? The frustration is painful. Why can't I wake up?

_"She should be awake. Don't you think she should be awake?"_

_She's exhausted, Alice,"_ Esme answers._ "She's been through so much... She's only human remember."_

_"A human who can make us all mentally blind." _Rose's voice turns to a scoff._ "I think I should go. With Edward not being able to read thoughts and Jasper not able to read emotions it takes away every advantage."_

_"We don't know Edward and Jasper can't read or sense the wolves, Rose." _Esme continues to caress my hair, her tone patient. The sensation is so soothing it takes me a second to absorb what she's said. When I do the panic is so strong I expect to hear my heart racing. It doesn't. I can't even feel it beating at all. _"Carlisle believes she can project her shield onto us in the same way she uses it herself."_

_"I still don't understand any of it."_

Rose's frustrated tone makes me think she's talking just as much about the shield I don't understand either, as she is about whatever else is going on. I still can't tell if I'm dreaming or not. I push harder against the darkness but nothing happens. I can't really even tell if I'm pushing at all_."_

_It's not that complicated if you think of it, Rose. __She's always had an ability to shield her thoughts from Edward. It's a normal human desire to keep one's mind private. But her shield has been immature, imperfect." _

_"Until the attack."_

_"Yes. Her shield until then was full of holes. Holes that still allowed Alice to see her future or Jasper to read her emotions. As a human living in a human world she would have had no need to ever guard herself against such things don't forget. Carlisle and I believe it was her knowledge of what you and Jasper can do Alice that helped her subconscious self fill in the holes. The trauma created a self protective instinct, but her awareness of those gifts allowed her to be specific and to almost purposely lock you both out. It's quite remarkable and frighteningly strong."_

_"And now you think she's projecting that same instinct on to all of us?"_

_"Yes."_

_"That makes no sense. Why would she do that? She's not helping anything that's for sure."_

_"That's just it, Rose. She doesn't even know she's doing it. But subconsciously she is trying to protect all of us just as much as she's trying to protect herself."_

Esme's reply is as always patient.

Nothing in me is patient. If I had eyes I would cry. If I had a voice I could scream. Legs I could thrash, arms I could flail. Trapped, all I can do is listen helplessly as I realize just how much my anger and fear and pain have cost all of us.

Now the one person who matters the most to me is doing what I never even tried to stop him from doing. He's going after Jacob. And he's doing it with the equivalent of a mental blind fold. What if he can't read Jacob's thoughts?

Desperately I search for some tangible proof of the shield they all claim I have, but there's nothing there. It's as non-existent as my body or my will to wake up.

Alice sighs and it sounds even farther away now. Fading from its beginning to its end_._

_"I think that may be part of why she's sleeping so deeply now. She's never projected this directly or from such a distance before. It must be taking an incredible amount of energy and mental focus. For a human it's unfathomable." _Esme draws some of my hair behind my ear, tucking it neatly while she speaks. _"Remarkable really. And so understandable that Aro would take such an interest in what she'll become. If she can block his most powerful immortals like Jane, not to mention himself that is one thing. But to be able to project to protect others... and I don't think that is the extent of it either. Remember the night she suffered a flashback? The night she broke the mirror in Edward's bathroom? We all felt what she felt to an extent that exceeds what Jasper is capable of. Carlisle and I have talked at length about this and we're certain she can project more than just a shield. We believe she can tap into other people's gifts like Edward's or Jasper's and enhance them, make them stronger..."_

_"Esme?"_

Alice's voice is still fading but I can still hear it enough to detect the sound of fear in the way she says her name._ "How do we know what Bella is doing isn't dangerous to her? Look at her Esme. We haven't even been speaking that low, she should have heard us. She should have woken up by now no matter how tired she is. Bella isn't that heavy of a sleeper."_

Suddenly I feel a hand on my leg. The grip is cool and firm. Rose. I instantly recognize the tingle of something unknown. The same tingle I'd felt the night of the attack when she'd helped me in the shower. A touch but not just a touch. I'd thought then that there might be something more to Rose. Her own gift either unknown or simply unrecognized. An ability to impart her feelings or maybe even to sense someone else's. Much more subtle than what Jasper can do and yet...

All my thoughts get cut off in a sudden realization. I can't feel my body on my own, but I can feel it under their hands. This is no dream and Esme is right. The feeling of exhaustion once recognized is undeniable and suffocating. It weighs me down like a two tonne ship anchor. Oh God, I have to wake up. I have to stop Edward but I can't, I can't...

_"Her skin is cold, Esme."_

Rose sounds suddenly afraid.

****

_Edward's POV_

I sense him long before I see him. Jacob Black. Unlike the others of his kind he's making no effort to conceal anything he thinks. His mind is like a caged wolf. Restlessly prowling its confines looking for a way out. Beneath each thought is exactly what I'd been looking for. He knows I'm coming. He wants me to come. He's nearly calling me in his head and his rage is palpable. When we break through the trees into the clearing he lifts his head and his dark eyes burn out of his otherwise placid face, full of hate.

Carlisle's mind is still closed to me but the hand he holds up in front of me tells me he thinks I will lose control. It is actually the farthest thing from the truth. Unlike Jacob whose rage has grown when he sees me, my own dissipates and settles into cold clear certainty. Beyond anything I've ever known everything sharpens. All of my senses stronger than they have ever been. I can smell the very essence of life radiating off of every living creature within miles. Every viable color and texture is revealed in every layer of complexity. All flavours, all sounds. The thoughts of every individual save my family is suddenly clear in a way I've never heard. Loudest of all his.

The ball of ice in my insides ceases to churn. It grows until it consumes all of me. In complete silence and stillness I watch and wait. This will be easier than I could have ever imagined.

Sam has transformed back to his human form and he's suddenly in front of me, though I don't shift my eyes from Jacob Black and the place he stands.

"You've broken the treaty," Sam snarls. "Are you going to break your vow to us as well?" I can sense and smell the sudden neurons in the air that pulse as Jasper, Carlisle and Emmett shift oh so slightly into a ready mode.

Forcing myself to turn away from Jacob, I level Sam with a cold gaze. He mentally flinches and I smile. "I find a vow I made under coercion and duress not necessarily one I'm inclined to keep. That being said, I have no intention of breaking my vow." I won't need to. Jacob is even more volatile than I'd thought.

Sam Uley's look turns confused. Nervously his eyes dart to Jacob and in his mind I can see the effort it is taking to keep Jacob under control. Even with the weight of an all inclusive Alpha command Jacob vibrates in every muscle and inch of tissue covering his body. Small tears in his black t-shirt and jeans are proof of how violently his body aches to throw off the confines of a human form. His bare feet dig into the dirt beneath them as though they contain claws, and I can smell his blood emanating from where his fingernails dig just as relentlessly into the flesh of his palms. He says nothing because he's been forbidden to speak, but low growls sounding more like a wolf than a man ripple constantly from his throat.

"Why come then?" Sue Clearwater steps out of the woods to the right of us. Pale skinned and almost shrunken the toll Leah's death has taken is apparent. Seth, still in wolf form moves to her side his lip curling in a small warning growl. With his thoughts and his actions he draws his lines. I bow my head slightly in acknowledgement of his choice. It is after all no different than my own. Family and the need to protect it dissolves friendship. All around the clearing similar lines are drawn as one by one the wolf pack takes their places silently communicating their readiness to defend. Only the three newest members remain on the outskirts nervously darting back and forth between the trees whining and restless.

"If you want blood for what was done to Bella Swan you've gotten more than enough of it, Edward Cullen. First Emily and Sam's child, and now my own."

"Each of those losses were brought about by the actions of all of you. I never asked for innocent blood. Though we both know your daughter was less than innocent, her choice to take her life was her own."

The agony rolling off of Sam at my words is one I don't need Jasper's ability to recognize. It shows in the sudden tremor of his shoulders and the clenching of his fists, the raggedness of his breathing.

_Do it_, I think to myself. Change and lunge at me. Begin this so that I can end it. I _ache_ to end it.

He takes a step back striving for calm. He does not need to have my ability to read my thoughts no more than I need Jasper's to recognize his emotions.

"You've continued to meddle in my families lives," Carlisle says quietly, stepping closer to pin Sam with his glare. "Charlie is in the hospital and his chance at surviving is slim at best. Bella continues to live in fear."

"That is nothing we have done." Sam's retort is angry and defensive.

"I can see with my own eyes exactly how much nothing you've done, Pack Leader," Carlisle hisses. "Look around you, Sam Uley. See how your leadership fails in all ways. From the children who transform too soon because you fail to take steps to end all of this, to the one whom you can barely control right this minute."

Jacob's sudden loud growl does not surprise me. His thoughts tear at him. Guilt and anguish over Leah's death are far too easy to read but so too is his fury and rage at me.

Sam spins away from us. "YOU WILL BE STILL!" he roars at Jacob. The force of the Alpha in his tone resonates over every surface. Like a house of cards Jacob folds into himself driven to his knees by the weight and power of the words. All around the small clearing the wolves' heads lower and their tails dip between their legs in uneasy unnecessary compliance. That it takes such force confirms my suspicion. Jacob is on the verge of breaking free. It is a wonder Sam has been able to control him as long as he has.

I dig deeper into his unguarded thoughts and find the reason. Perhaps the last scrap of humanity he has left. He has no memories of what he's done. Scrubbed clean from the Rohypnol he nevertheless has been told in detail what his actions entailed and set into motion. Though he tries to convince himself it is all an elaborate lie meant to frame him, he sees some truth behind the accusations that have been levelled at him repeatedly by Sam, by Billy, by other members of the Pack. Both those who would seek to protect him and those who would seek to condemn him. The Pack truly is torn in many different directions.

Within the mind frame of possibility he is afraid. Afraid for himself, afraid for Bella. Sick and tormented with a guilt he can't bear except to blame someone else for whatever limited ways he will accept his own culpability.

His thoughts of Bella sicken me and I hiss low and violent in the back of my throat.

"Edward Cullen, you made a vow."

Distracted by the twisted mess of Jacob's mind I missed the approach of his father. Billy arrives in the clearing being carried by Embry and Quil. They settle him into the chair pushed by a further emaciated old Quil Atera. The days since the fire circle have aged him even further until it is a wonder he has the power to stand under his own meagre weight. Despite his obvious frail health his eyes continue to be sharp and angry.

Billy shoves his chair through the low scrub and grass towards me, fury radiating off every part of his being. "Don't do this. There is no reason to do this."

"You've given us nothing but reasons," Emmett snarls moving in front of me in a clearly protective way. With Billy's shouting the Pack has moved forward, tails no longer between their legs. Some of them are merely resolved to do what they have to, but others are clearly ready for a fight.

Billy waves Emmett away and deftly manoeuvres his chair around him like he's inconsequential. His eyes burn in a pale gaunt face. The human countenance so clearly shows the stress of all that has happened while the supernatural creatures remain physically unmarked. Only the tenor of their thoughts shows proof of the damage. It is more than I would have originally believed possible. The regret and dislike for all of what happened and continues to happen is nearly tangible. Time has clarified actions made in haste and fear. Shown them for the mistakes they so clearly were.

"You can't change what's happened. None of us can."

"I can't change it, but I can stop it from continuing."

"Nothing is continuing anywhere except anger and stupidity," he spits, banging his fists against the arms of his chair. "Anger just creates more anger. Look what you've done with yours, Edward Cullen? Your hate controls you so much you're willing to jeopardize your entire family. Your future."

Emmett laughs. "The only thing in jeopardy old man is you and your kind."

Holding my hand up to him he falls silent with a low displeased growl. The Pack follows suit at the implied threat and Sam shifts on restless uneasy feet.

Ignoring Emmett, Billy's eyes bore into me and his thoughts become clear. "Bella is in so much pain. I know. I've seen it in her dreams. I know what my son did to her, what it has cost her. The anger is destroying her, Edward, and it's destroying you as well. Look at this. All of this, and tell me it solves anything."

"I would never have hurt Bella the way you say I did. You lie. I only wanted to protect her from him. It's all I ever wanted."

A small hint of a smile graces my lips as I turn to see Jacob rising to his feet. His tone of voice carries a new timber of sound to it, one that echo's in my ear.

Ah. And so it begins. His muscles ripple with new strength as he glares at me with hate and sickness. A broken pathetic Prince finally rising to take his throne.

Perhaps he'll die like a man and not a dog after all.

****

_Bella's POV_

Rose squeezes my leg hard enough to leave bruises but I don't care. In my head I chant harder, harder because finally I have something substantial to hold onto. Some way to drag myself out of sleep and I desperately need to wake up.

"Bella can you hear me?" _Yes. Damn it squeeze harder._

"Rose you're going to hurt her, be careful."

The grasp lightens and if I could I'd sob in frustration I would. _Please, Rose. Please. Feel what I need, don't let go, don't._ I pray to God or whoever might be listening that I'm not mistaken about whatever instinct has me believing Rose can feel something of what I am trying to tell her.

In answer her grip tightens again and a second one attaches itself to my other leg.

"Shake her, Esme."

"Rose, Edward doesn't want us to ..."

"Fuck, Edward. You have to wake her up. Something is wrong I can feel it damn it. Shake her. Alice, slap her cheeks."

I feel Esme's hands curl over my shoulders and then Alice's against my cheeks patting insistently. I nearly sob with frustration as I feel the veil of darkness trying to suck me back down into deeper ground.

"Oh for God's sakes," Rose yells.

A sharp sting radiates over my entire face, the force of it nearly unhinging my jaw but it works. The ink black around me turns gray and then white and then...

I'm awake.

Blinking, trying to focus through a continued fog I search and find Rose's face where she peers down at me.

"Ouch," I mutter, bringing my palm to my burning cheekbone. "Why do I get the feeling you've been holding that one back for awhile?"

She shrugs with a slight eye roll. "Probably because I have."

"Oh," Alice's exclamation is hard enough to make my ears ring and though I still can't focus and a sensation of being so tired it's hardly tolerable still lingers, I get that she is beyond thrilled with something. "I can see," she cries. "Bella your shield it's...Well I think it is. I can't see much, the damn wolves, but I can see Charlie. He's going to be okay, Bella. He's going to pull through and I..."

Somehow I push up off the bed. The action feels disjointed and a strange numbness still clings to my body. Esme catches me before I can fall on the floor. "What? Charlie's what? Alice?"

"Shh, it's okay, Bella." Esme strokes my hair gently trying to soothe me. "Charlie had a bad spell with his heart, but he's alright. He's at the hospital. Rose get her a cold cloth for her face..."

"No," I shove away from Esme and get to my feet. They barely hold me and this time it's Rose who catches me with a muttered oath. "Where is Edward?" Remnants of weird dreams are fading out of my mind as fast as they appear, but the conversation I'd heard while I'd fought to wake up remains clear as a bell.

The silence that follows my question has my ears ringing. "Tell me, Rose," I yell. "Where the hell is he?"

"Bella, calm down." Esme runs a cold hand up and down my back. "Sit down..."

"He went after Jacob didn't he? Oh God. Tell me he didn't, please?" I keep my eyes pinned on Rose's face searching and everything I need to see is there though she nods anyway.

"No." My legs want to crumple, but I lock the muscles and somehow I manage not to fall.

"Bella, you're not strong right now. You might be sick, you skin feels like ice, just lay down..." Rose's tone is scary with its odd note of fake calm.

"No. Help me get dressed. We have to stop him..."

No one moves and Rose's arms are like vice clamps.

"Bella," Alice whispers sounding impossibly sad. "It's okay. Edward will be fine, he's so much stronger than you think. Jacob can't hurt him."

Esme moves me from Rose and presses me down to sit on the side of the bed beside her. Placing her arms around me she rocks me like a small child as I begin to cry. "He's not alone, Bella. Emmett and Jasper and Carlisle are with him. It's okay, everything will be taken care of and you'll be safe. Always safe. We won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

I push away and she lets me go. "Esme, no," I say, trying to enforce as much meaning and clarity as I can into my words. "Not like this. Not for me. He'll hate himself after, you know he will." Her eyes look sad as she digests that thought, but still she shakes her head. "I have to stop him Esme, this isn't what I want, please."

Struggling back to my feet I turn to Alice who looks stricken as she stands unmoving at the end of the bed. "Alice please, I don't want him to do this. I was angry, so angry and I knew what he was thinking and I didn't stop him, but I don't want him to do this."

"Bella," she murmurs sadly. "Jacob deserves... he won't change, he's..." She closes her eyes. "I can't see his future, but I've seen a lot in my life. He'll always want what he can't have. He might never let you go... He doesn't deserve your pity or your..."

"I don't care about Jacob," I yell loudly. "I care about Edward and what this could do to him."

"You underestimate him, Bella," Rose remarks. "He's doing this to keep you safe, he'll never regret that."

Dizzy and afraid I turn to her pleadingly. "And if I regret it Rose, what then?" She studies me for what feels like an eternity.

"Why should you regret it? I didn't."

"I'm not you, Rose," I cry. "And what Jacob did, as wrong and as painful and sick as it was, doesn't compare to what was done to you. And anyway it was your choice. This isn't mine. I don't want anyone to die because of me. Not anyone..." Her eyes stay distant and cool. So typical Rose. "Please…This isn't my choice..."

Something shifts in her expression finally and she hisses through her suddenly clenched teeth. "I tried to tell him..." she mutters closing her eyes. "Stubborn ass."

"Tried to tell him what?" The question escapes my throat as a near scream as the fear and the tiredness pile in against me.

She sighs and shakes her head. "I tried to tell him, both Alice and I did. It should be your choice but he.."

"So then why are we standing here?" I ask getting my feet to get me to the closet. "We have to go, we have to stop this..."

No one moves and I spin around, my hands full of clothes fighting back waves of dizziness and nausea.

"Bella, it's too late." Alice whispers.

"Edward's mind was made up, sweetheart," Esme says quietly. "He isn't going to hesitate. If it isn't done already it will be long before we could find them." She stands and moves to take the clothes from my numb fingers. "I'm sorry, Bella. Alice is right, it is too late."

* * *

A/N This isn't going to be pretty my lovely readers. Last chance to back out....


	36. Chapter 36

Beta'd by Octoberland

* * *

Chapter 36 We all Fall

**Bella's POV**

"No," I whisper staring at Esme. "NO!" This time my voice carries the weight and conviction I truly want it to have. "I can't accept that. _I won't_. We have to at least try. Please, Esme, please."

"Bella." She shakes her head, her eyes soft and full of sympathy. "We don't even know where they are, or where the Pack has been keeping Jacob."

"Charlie knows." Alice steps closer, her beautiful face pulled into an expression of sudden determination. "Maybe if we take Bella to him, if she can see him for just a second..."

Esme turns and takes Alice by the arms, pulling her away from me to the other side of the room. I can see her lips moving, though I can't hear what she's saying to her. Ignoring them, I begin yanking on clothes. I have a course of action now at least. Going to the hospital will eat up precious time I don't have, but doing something is better than doing nothing and I have to try. I can't let Edward spend eternity with yet another stain on his soul.

"Rose, is Edward's car still here?" I ask as I jam my feet into my shoes.

"Yes."

I've barely given her a chance to answer before I race for Edward's bureau. I've never driven his car before, but I know where he keeps a spare set of keys and despite my nervous fumbling I find them easily in the top drawer. Rose catches me before I can get to the door. Her hand clamps down hard on my upper arm nearly jerking me off my feet as my forward momentum comes to an abrupt end.

Her eyes stare at me hard as I try to pull away. "Let me go, Rose." I cry.

"Jacob Black deserves to die for what he did to you, Bella." she hisses. "If you save his life, you'll never be free of him. He's a werewolf, nearly as immortal as our kind. He'll stay the same until he stops phasing, you know that. You'll always be looking over your shoulder."

"I don't care about Jacob, Rose. Whatever happens will happen, but not like this."

"_Remember_ what _he_ did to _you_, Bella."

The familiar feeling of rage that has been my friend over these last few days is still very close to the surface. I have to swallow hard to push it back down. "I'm never going to forget, Rose." I hiss. "Now let me go."

"Bella, this is . . . " Alice is instantly back at my side, but before she can finish her sentence Rose interrupts.

"I know where they are."

Shocked I can only stare at her for a second. My feet seem stuck to the floor as I try to understand what she's saying.

"You don't have to go to Charlie, Bella. I know where they are. Emmett texted me their location the minute he knew where they were going. They're just outside the North border of the Reservation."

"Take me." I plead with her. "Please, Rose." Her eyes close for a second and then she releases my arm.

"Okay, I'll take you."

I start to turn for the door and she stops me again.

"Bella, listen to me. We're probably too late; you know that right?"

"I have to try, Rose." My voice cracks as it rises in a near yell. "Either help me or let me go, _please_."

"Alright. Let's go."

"I'm coming too," Alice says, moving with a determined look to stand beside me.

"We'll all go." Esme adds. She plucks the car keys from my fingers tossing them on the dresser. "We'll be faster on foot." Before I can move her hands cup my face and she stares into my eyes with an almost frightening intensity. I've never seen Esme look so fierce. "Tell me you're sure, Bella. That you're not doing this out of guilt or because you're afraid. Tell me you understand that we will protect you always and bear that burden without remorse. All of us, not just Edward."

"I know that Esme." I whisper back around new tears that attempt to clog my throat. "But I don't want this. It won't undo anything that happened, it won't fix anything and Edward doesn't need this on his conscience. Neither do I."

Whatever she sees in my eyes or hears in my tone it seems to be enough. She nods once and then suddenly Rose is pulling me into her arms. On her back we race through the house and out into the cold gray afternoon. A light drizzle falls from the sky as I pray and hope that I'm not going to be too late.

**Edward's POV**

_"I would never have hurt Bella the way you say I did. You lie. I only wanted to protect her from him. It's all I ever wanted." _– Jacob, chapter 35

The ball of ice that has churned in my guts all these long weeks implodes at Jacob's words. Shards of ice begin to splinter and race through the venom in my dormant system, coating my mouth and drenching my tongue and palate. The flavour enhances the pure cold rage inside of me and I embrace it eagerly.

Jacob's thoughts bombard me as he shudders under the weight of his restrictions. Among them is a litany of useless excuses, a vile rant of delusional reasoning. My hate flares anew with each twisted, pathetic, morally bankrupt justification that spins through his mind.

_I loved her, even before you. She was mine..._

I will swallow his blood. Allow bitter, stench ridden, foul mouthfuls of it to fill my belly so the memory of his death will have its own distinct flavour. One forever savoured... "She was never yours, dog."

_You will condemn her to a lifeless existence. She'll be like you, nothing more than a walking corpse..._

When I hook my fingers and sink them into his flesh, I will relish the sensation of skin and muscle and sinew tearing, separating. Every one of his agonized cries will nourish me... "You refuse to believe what you've done because you're weak. You've always been weak. A child. Nothing more, nothing less."

_I__ protected her when you left her. I saved her..._

His gloating thought finds its mark. A vulnerable place that will never fully heal stripped raw again by the guilt I can never escape. One more reason to remember the pure trust he broke and the heart he broke with it. One more reason to make him pay in ways more painful than any he can imagine... "She made her choice and you couldn't stand it." I sneer the words coldly, finding my own mark.

I begin to circle him, ignoring Billy who continues to beseech me in his thoughts and with his words. Ignoring the other wolves and their ceaseless turmoil of emotions. Sam and his endless striving to control a Pack on the verge of mutiny. Sue Clearwater and her loss and pain. Old Quil and his bottomless well of hatred and pride. None of it exists as anything more than a buzz of background static, meaningless in all ways. There exists no thought or presence that will sway me from my desire to reap vengeance on the boy who dared to threaten the core of my existence.

He stares at me with hate filled eyes. _She doesn't understand her choice, bloodsucker. You have her blind and brainwashed, believing in a sick, twisted, fucking fairytale..._

He will beg for mercy before I silence his black mind forever. Beg and scream and plead until I have feasted on every tortured cry and sated myself on his suffering... "The only blind one here is you, Jacob Black. Your refusal to accept what you've done is the true definition of twisted."

"I...never...hurt...Bella. You...are...a...LIAR!" Jacob's muscles shudder and twitch like disparate entities as Sam's gag order is erased in his mind. The effort his vocalization takes is tremendous and the final threads of Sam's control begin to unravel. Jacob will not be held much longer. Smiling I circle faster, forcing him to turn to keep me in his line of sight.

"You say it's a lie, Jacob. Yet the only lie here is the one you just uttered. You said you only wanted to protect her from me, though we both know you wanted so much more than that. You wanted her for yourself. It's what you've always wanted, and you were willing to betray your own Pack to get it."

A guttural snarl erupts from Sam's throat as he listens to my words. A sound so deep and animalistic it should never have been born from the throat of a human. His head fills with the memory of our discussion at the hospital the day Emily had lost her child, and he moves closer to me. Despite the guilt and remorse that tear at him for all the actions he's been involved in, his decision to continue to protect Jacob from himself, and from me, remain steadfast. Just as they had that day when I'd asked him to let Jacob choose the final outcome. I expected no less. I have planned for no less.

"I know what you're doing," Sam snarls. "I told you then and I'm telling you now, I won't allow this." Despite his words his regrets are read easily. The attempt to force us to leave Forks, the plan that would not have seen Bella harmed were it not for Jacob's betrayal, are all actions that have cost him dearly.

My eyes flick to him and then away, refusing to be baited into a response. My small smile is mocking. I will never forgive his actions, nor will I forget, and yet he's of no more consequence to me than the insects that scurry beneath my feet.

Behind me the Pack once again shifts, restless and uneasy. They read Sam's thoughts, and again they are torn between instinct and right and wrong. Quil snarls low in his throat and Embry follows suit, both their thoughts hopelessly conflicted. _Jacob, look what you've done, man. Bella didn't deserve this. None of us deserved this..._

Like Sam their thoughts mean nothing to me. Too little too late, and if they suffer, so be it. It is so much less than they deserve.

_Don't do this, Edward Cullen. You'll destroy everything. Nearly a hundred years of peace... You'll destroy everything inside of _her_, Edward. Bella cannot live in a world this dark. Search your heart, your mind, your conscience. You know I am right. She needs light the same way she needs air. You will suffocate her in this darkness and this hateful world you are creating. This burden will kill her inside... Your death or Jacob's. It won't matter which..._

The Shaman who wants to save his son and the dream walker who can't save anyone is desperate now. Once I would have felt pity, but no longer.

_I never wanted this. I just want to go home..._

The young new wolves are of no significance to me.

_KILL THEM. ALL OF THEM. NOW! WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR!_

The Paul wolf stalks closer, his mind raging at Sam for action. He's not torn. He wants blood, his hot-headed nature ruling him as always. His desire is only a pathetic semblance of what I feel. What I want.

His emotions are nothing. He is nothing.

Jared. Shifting, ready. A follower allowing himself to be governed by Paul's emotions and thoughts. His haunches bunch in restrained power, coiled and ready. Through his eyes, like a background image imposed beneath my central vision of Jacob, I see Emmett smile, Jasper shift, and Carlisle's hands open and close. The movement is a signal. Emmett and Jasper respond perfectly to his silent guidance, shifting like sinuous wisps of mist to stand between Jacob and I and the Pack. No one will get to me without going through them. One more step and suddenly Sam is blocked by Carlisle.

There is nothing outwardly threatening about his action, but Sam transforms instantly. Exploding into wolf form he growls at Carlisle who bares his teeth with a small growl of his own in response. "Give me a reason, Pack leader," he hisses, turning the word leader into a snide sound of disgust and disrespect. "I haven't forgotten the night you came to my home and nearly cost my daughter her life for a third time with your pathetic inability to control your Pack."

As if in illustration of Sam's lack of control, the Paul wolf growls and begins to advance on Emmett. Without a strong leader his personal desires are getting harder and harder to resist. Emmett drops to a crouch, but Sam is quicker. Spinning from Carlisle, he orders the Pack down. I'm not surprised at how his order isn't fully acknowledged. Paul glares at him and though he makes no further moves, neither does he step back. Instead he maintains his threatening stance, his thoughts becoming increasingly hostile and mutinous.

Even this matters little to me.

Only one person matters. Only one. I circle Jacob faster, moving with a vampire's grace so that I appear to glide. His human eyes find my motion disconcerting and I smile again, drawing my lips up over teeth glistening with venom. Now comes the most difficult part of my plan. I must provoke Jacob past the point where Sam can control him. I must make him want my death as much as I want his, and I must do it in such a way that the choice is his and only his. As the true Alpha and Ephraim Black's sole heir, his power negates all others. One word from him and the Pack, Sam included, will be rendered powerless.

To avoid war, Jacob must embrace his hate as I have embraced mine. His mind shows me how very close I am to achieving my goal. I use the ice cold caress of my anger to block out everyone else around me. I have waited over a month for this moment and my rage is cold and focused. I know a century's worth of patience and waiting, and though it galls me to wait even one more second, I will do so to protect my family from the consequences of my actions.

I have only minutes left. Sam is losing control faster and faster. Hyper aware of his Pack's growing discontent and indecision he will have to make a choice. I can see his chosen path as clearly in his mind as if he'd spoken the words out loud to me. He will order the wolves to attack. Though I cannot read their thoughts, I know what my family will do. Carlisle, Emmett and Jasper will respond to their actions with lethal force. It will be shockingly easy given the weakened state that the constant turmoil and stress and their tormented indecision have bestowed upon the Pack. They are not prepared for this fight. Their immaturity and lack of fighting experience is no match for seasoned immortals like Carlisle and I. Or for the pure brute strength of Emmett, or Jasper's intense fighting skill.

This will be my last effort to save the innocent.

"Look at me, Jacob," I repeat, though it's hardly necessary. Like me he has no desire to look anywhere else. "Listen to me. I know the truth of that night. I know what you did and I know why you did it."

"Lies." His voice is more animal growl than human. Beneath his straining thighs new rips appear in the fabric of his jeans.

"She told you a secret that night, one you forced out of her by provocation." His eyes turn darker, mouth tightening, jaw clenching so hard that I can hear his molars grinding with punishing force.

Sam snarls a new warning. The Pack shifts again, somehow closer than before, whining low in their throats with unease.

Billy Black begins to chant. An ancient sing-song prayer echoing off the cliff face before us, calling to Gods and elements and useless powers that cannot sway the darkness consuming me. In response the sky darkens with heavier clouds and the wind seems to pick up around us, rifling through the long grass at our feet. An unspoken command has Seth and Embry ushering Sue and Old Quil farther away. If they resist I don't notice, mesmerized as I am by my prey. The bitter smell of him fills my nostrils, rank with the odour of dog and sweat and weeks of unwashed skin musky with stress and hate.

I move to Jacob suddenly, using the full extent of my speed and agility to invade his personal space and drop my tone to a mere murmur. The clawing need in me is a thousand times more potent than thirst. I ache to smash my fists into his sullen hostile face, to tear his eyes from their sockets and his gloating tongue from his mouth, smashing teeth and jaw... "Bella told you her and I would have a real honeymoon, that we would be together her and I in every way on our wedding night. I'd promised to make love to her, Jacob, and it was a promise I fully intended to keep." I hiss the words in his ear and then I'm gone.

"You couldn't stand that thought," I continue from my new position. His muscles spasm even more violently than before. One shoulder of his shirt tears at its seam to frame the dancing contortion of muscle beneath. His skin extends and retracts in a freakishly macabre state. "Even now, you can't stand it, can you? The thought of her and I together in that way?" The truths of my words are apparent in his expression and thoughts. A gloating thrill of power escalates my need.

"You'll kill her. You stupid...bloodsucker...leech..." His panting breath steams in the cold air matching the vapour that rolls off his overheated skin while his anger escalates.

"You're wrong," I hiss in reply. Again I dart forward, only this time I hiss in his ear from behind, startling him, making his nerve endings jump in his contorting muscles. His unease is a fragrance I inhale greedily, ignoring his stench. "I've loved her, Jacob." I whisper. "I've held her in my arms and loved her with my body and all she knew was exquisite pleasure. I never hurt her, not once. Only you did that."

Back to my previous position, I watch as my new confession takes root in Jacob's mind. More thread's snap.

"LIES!" Jacob roars at me, the trembling reaching its zenith. His phase is nearly inevitable. "I love her. I would never . . . Barely anything holds him now. Close. I'm so close...

_Yes. Fight it off you bastard. You fucking loathsome dog. Hate me as I hate you so I can watch your anger turn to piss in your pants fear when I tear your throat out with my teeth . . . _

"Lies?" I nearly laugh. "No, it is the truth and a part of you knows it. You heard her confession and you attacked her." My mouth fills with venom as my memories, both hers that she'd shared and my own from what I had seen, pour out of the box I keep them in inside my head. The last threads of my self control snap. "You slammed her against a wall," I snarl raggedly, drawing the pain to mingle with the anger. "_Your_ hands bruised her body. _Your_ weight snapped her ribs, her wrist. _Your_ nails clawed her skin. _Your_ teeth split her lips while you forced yourself on her, all while she pleaded and begged and cried for you to stop. Pleas _you_ ignored. You tried to rape her Jacob, and when Charlie came home and interrupted your sick disgusting urge to take what she didn't want to give, you took his gun and shot him in the chest."

Each memory slams me anew and I ache to finally have an opportunity to show him how it feels to be helpless. How it feels to beg and be ignored...

"No..." He shakes his head, grabs handfuls of his own hair tearing at it. His mind is blank, he truly has no memory of what he did but my words, each one of them, find their mark. I don't allow him more time to think or to dream up new excuses or fake rational.

"_Yes_." I roar, the volume of my voice echoing so that the wolves flinch, their ears pinning down against their heads while their restless twitching grows more agitated. I hear Sam snapping his teeth at Paul, Jared's low growl, Seth's frustrated whimper. The noises blend in with the rushing wind and are lost in the hate that consumes me. "There is blood all over your hands, Jacob Black. Bella's, Charlie's." I pause for effect. "Leah's." His eyes snap back open and glare at me, the shaking intensifying again.

Jasper shifts like a shadow on a slow lazy summer afternoon. No one notices how much closer he is to Paul or the equally slow easy smile on his face that does not match the eager gleam in his eye.

Sam's growls are louder and now his teeth snap at Jacob as though he can force him down with aggression where words have failed. He needs to be in human form to communicate with Jacob, but he's reluctant to change back and now he is stuck between an impossible see saw. On one side the Pack. He's stronger in wolf form, capable of controlling them better. On the other, Jacob. Trapped in his human form Sam cannot repeat the commands Jacob is throwing off. Not that it would matter…

I take further advantage of Sam's indecisive weakness. "Leah tried to protect you from yourself, and look what it got her? Death."

Sam snarls yet again, his pain almost physical. Jacob shudders, his nails scratching gouges into his cheeks. Part fury, part sickened sadness and guilt tramples all his other thoughts. I scrape his mental wounds with more words, seeking the final break in his mind.

"And what a death it was," I sing song mockingly as though only he and I exist. As though his Father isn't pleading, as though I cannot feel and smell the hot reek of a werewolf Pack breathing down my neck. Their restless shifting and fear and frustration saturate the clearing in energy I can feel and taste. Still none of it matters. Only Jacob and the glorious rage binding us together beyond all else. "Such a difficult chore suicide is for a werewolf." I time my words to Billy's chanting, adopting his quiet tone, drawing images with my words that make everyone in this clearing burn. "She had to tear and slice and cut at her wrists again and again. Slashing open the wounds before they could fully heal in order to keep them open. In order to keep her blood flowing. When all her efforts were in vain, she brutally sliced through flesh and muscle to sever the femoral artery in her thigh and held that gaping wound open with her own two hands while her blood drained from her body in a growing pool all around her."

Sam had found her and his mind supplies me with all the graphic imagery I need to torture Jacob further. My own imagination and knowledge easily fill in any missing pieces of her death. "She died slowly and in unimaginable pain, Jacob. Her supernatural body fighting her every step of the way. All alone, and all because you wouldn't accept Bella's decisions and let us live in peace." His mental anguish grows and with it my pleasure. I crave his pain and I use my words like knives to stab deeper, tearing at his mind the way I soon will his flesh.

"You let her down, Jacob. You used her body, and you used her to try and get to Bella, though you knew as well as the rest of the Pack how her madness was growing. When it all backfired, she paid the price with her life, while you? You just stand here, as pathetic and weak as always."

I take a single step closer and regard him in fake mocking disgust. "You offered Bella yourself as a replacement that night Jacob, pathetically thinking that sex and love are two separate things. Pathetically believing she would ever want that with you. As if a creature as exquisite and perfect as she would ever want a dog to touch her in that way." Another step closer and I let my eyes rake over his body with disdain. "Not just a dog, but an incapable incompetent child as well. One who thinks force and pain equal love and tenderness. One who can't even rule the Pack that was meant to be his."

"I'll kill you. I'll kill you myself. I'll kill all of you filthy bloodsuckers." His body vibrates now in one constant tremor. Emmett moves closer to Quil, Jasper edges even nearer to Paul. From the corner of my eye I see Sam crouch low ready to spring at Jacob, but once again Carlisle blocks him. Their warning snarls mingle in the cold air but I have eyes and ears only for one.

"It's me you want, Jacob. Not them." I gesture to my family as though they are negligible, playing on his ego and rage. "I'm the one who's changing Bella. I'm the one she wants, the one she chose." Again I flash to him, forcing my breath into his face with each new whispered word. "The one whose name she cries out when I lay her willing body down on _my_ bed and love her past every dark memory you left her with." Again I move away, mocking him with my voice and the movements that his human form eyes struggle to absorb.

"Just me. Just you. The way it should have always been," I tell him quietly, calmly beginning to circle him again, forcing him to move to follow me. Baiting him with the one thing he's always wanted. "No treaties to break, no families to hold us back." I smile without humor letting my mind once again fill with images of Bella, battered and broken. "Winner takes all," I lie, and he hears the words for what they are.

Not that it matters. Not that it ever mattered. He lunges at me transforming mid stride. Before his feet even hit the ground he orders the Pack down with such force and true Alpha strength they buckle and collapse in on themselves curling into the ground like chastised house pets.

With a lunge of my own I meet him halfway.

**Bella's POV**

Rose doesn't seem to be moving fast enough. Cold air whistles by my ears and the trees blur by my eyes, and still it doesn't seem fast enough. Panic causes my heartbeat to squeeze out in static bursts that make my head ring. Afraid I might fall off her back I cling harder, grateful I can't hurt her.

Esme and Alice keep pace with her easily. I know it's my weight and the awkward pull I put on her run that slows Rose. For the first time in weeks I think about how much easier all of this would be if I was like them instead of still human and useless. I never would have been asleep when Edward left, I'd be strong enough to have protected myself instead of putting them in danger. An equal instead of hindrance . . .

"We're going to have to cross into the Reservation to get where they are." Rose's words interrupt my thoughts.

"The treaty is already broken," Esme responds, her voice carrying easily to my ears despite the cold wind that whips around them. "It hardly matters now anyway."

Again it occurs to me what I've cost them and my heart breaks all over again. Nearly a century of peace between them and now... Unable to continue with the thought I look over at Alice. Though the speed makes everything blur the fact that she's keeping perfect pace with Rose gives the illusion that we're the ones standing still. I feel a nauseating lurch in my stomach but choke it back through sheer force of will. She's attempting yet again to call one of their cell phones despite the fact that it's useless. There is no reception out here, not even for the most advanced phone.

"How much longer, Rose?"

"Ten minutes. I think." She knows where we're going, though she's uncertain exactly of how to get there. The anxiety ratchets up to a new level making it hard to control my breathing. A panic attack now is the last thing I need, but I can feel it relentlessly brewing despite my best effort to keep it at bay.

Esme's hand on my back is cold and solid. "Breathe Bella," she murmurs gently. My heartbeat is giving me away.

"One thing for sure," Rose mutters. "Edward will hear us long before he sees us, Bella. Your heart is louder than a damn drum right now."

"He won't hear her. Not now. He'll be blocking everything. He'll be single minded. I know. I've seen it before…"

The words are so quiet they're barely words at all. I can't even tell who says them, or why, or if it isn't just the hiss of the wind rushing over my ears and not really words at all.

Alice is suddenly closer. "Bella. I just thought of something. Listen to me okay?" I nod and she continues, an expression of excitement touching her lovely face. "You need to try to reach out to Edward. It might be your only chance if you truly want to stop this."

"Reach out? How, Alice? I can't control my head, you know that."

"No. I don't know that, Bella."

"Alice. Bella doesn't need more pressure right now. Listen to her heart fly."

"She has to, Esme. She has to at least try."

"Alice I don't know_ how_."

"Yes you do, Bella. Remember the night you had that panic attack? And Edward saw everything you remembered in your mind? And Jasper felt it? Jasper says he's never felt anything that strong before. The wave of your emotions was stronger than what he normally felt from you, even when you were at your most upset. It was so strong it took away his ability to control his own gift at first and he ended up sending it all out, sharing it with all of us."

"I didn't want that, Alice. I wasn't trying to..."

"I know," she interrupts a touch of impatience to her voice. "But you _did_ do it. And Edward says you opened your mind to him when you first saw Charlie in the hospital as well. Both of those times you were so upset. You wanted Charlie to hear you. And I think you wanted Edward to know what happened to you that night. Maybe it was mostly subconscious, but I don't think it matters." She comes closer still, her eyes intense with emotion as she tries to compel me to believe what she's saying. "Try, Bella. You want Edward to hear you. You want to stop him from doing this. So try. Call him with your mind."

"_I can't_, Alice."

Her eyes flash with impatience. "I can't see around the wolves, but I know that Rose is going to turn right in a minute when we reach the creek. That means your shield is down. _Try_!"

Closing my eyes I let my head fall forward until it rests on Rose's shoulder. I have no idea what to do, so I do the first thing that I always do when I'm not with Edward. I picture him. In my mind he's standing in front of me, smiling that amazing crooked grin that makes the bottom fall out of my stomach. Instantly I feel some of the knots in my core loosen and I make the picture brighter, stronger, bring it into crystal clear focus until every subtle nuance of his face and expression is perfect. I think of how much I love him, need him. Now. Always. I think of how much I want to be with him, how much I want to belong to him in all ways. How much I wish there was nothing between us, ever. Not even the wall in my head...

"_Please, Edward. Please. I need you... Don't do this. I don't want you to do this."_

I barely feel Rose turn the way Alice had predicted she would. I don't notice that it has started to rain or that the wind is now driving that same cold rain into my face. My eyes are closed, but I pray again and again that my mind is not.

"_Please, Edward. Don't do this... Please..."_

**Edward's POV**

Jacob and I collide in midair. Having taken him off guard he's unprepared for my attack and the force of my body hitting his slams him to the ground forcing the air from his lungs. The exhalation draws his ribcage in and the thick muscle contracts in his midsection loosening my tenuous grip. He's strong. The power of his back legs drives us up off the ground, and in one fluid movement he forces me to let go, completely spinning away from me. Pain flares down my right side as his back claws rake against my skin, but I hardly notice. The cold rage inside of me more than counters the burn, and the sound of his nails snapping at the tips tells me the contact is not without consequence for him.

His mind gives him away when he tries to spin left and lunge for my leg. Jaws snap and miss as I move away, dropping my right hand to the top of his head before he can pull back. My fingers dig into the thick ruff of fur on his neck, plowing through to the muscle and tendon beneath. Hooking them there I clamp down hard, driving his entire upper body to the ground with enough force to hear a satisfying snap in his left shoulder. His howl of pain is even more satisfying.

It would be so easy to slam my knee down upon his prone figure and snap his vertebrae like a child's cheap, plastic toy. I can see his spine separating in my mind's eye with perfect clinical vision.

_Too easy. _

Releasing him with a low growl I yank his head back until the strain on his neck makes him whimper and look into his eyes with a sneering smile.

"Too easy." I snarl. "You don't deserve easy." Placing my other hand at his shoulder, I lift him from the ground and hurl him at the cropping of trees some seventy feet in the distance. He connects with another pleasurable smash and whimper, and I'm beneath him before he even hits the ground.

Jacob is falling sideways. Using all my speed I spin beneath him and punch upwards, envisioning in my mind the exact placement of the breaks in Bella's fragile, delicate rib bones. My stone hard fist slices through his thick coat of hair, compressing down his muscles until they flatten and thin with the impact. The bones beneath are stronger than hers, the flex greater. But I've put the full force of my upward lunge into the action and the bones bend to their limit and snap with the wet sound of cracking ice. His falling weight pushes my hand down and to the right allowing me to wrap my fingers around his hip joint. I dig them in sliding past muscle and tendon to bone, arresting his fall and separating the joint before I slam his body the rest of the way to the ground.

The Pack howls in sympathetic misery, twitching in their mental confinement, thoughts racing in disjointed angst.

Jacob flips to his feet easily despite his injuries. Already his mind shows me he can feel the beginning stages of the healing process. A tight tingling that mingles with the pain. He shakes his head once to clear it, his lip curling back over his saliva drenched teeth in a low steady growl. I dip to a crouch with a smile as his eyes turn almost red with rage, curling my fingers at him in a beckoning motion.

_Come to me… _

Lunging again he's more than predictable. He tries to overpower me, but I'm gone from the space before he can blink. Behind him I laugh mockingly.

"Over here, Jacob," I taunt. His dislocated hip hinders him in his turn and he's favoring his left front leg where his broken ribs grate painfully against one another beneath their bruised encasement of flesh. "Does it hurt?" I ask in an almost conversational aside. My tone changes instantly to an angry hiss with my next words. "It can't hurt you anywhere near as much as it hurt Bella when you drove her tiny body down against the arm of her living room sofa crushing her with your weight. Did you hear her ribs snap, Jacob? Or were you too far gone in your sick lust?"

His thoughts roll with the images my words create, but as always it's filled with another accusation that I am a liar. Stalking me slowly now, looking for a weak spot, he tries to taunt me with images of his own in a useless effort to provoke me.

_Bella, laying beneath me, naked, covered in bruises and blood soaked gashes pleading while I ravish her with a depraved red-eyed countenance._

His wolf like grin is followed by a short laughing bark as he arrogantly assumes his twisted imaginings will rattle me. Instead I only grin back, relishing the rapid deflation of his amusement. "Oh the images I could show you, Jacob. If you could see in my mind, the things you would see."

_Bella, lying beneath me, naked. Flawless beautiful skin covered in a moist sheen of perspiration, face tilted upwards with lips begging to be kissed. Pleading with me not to stop, to never ever stop… Mine. Mine. Mine._

"But then I would never show such images to a child," I mock. He lunges again, so predictable, so ruled by his hot-blooded nature and temperamental immature mind…

_Edward, stay focused. Don't be cocky. Watch your back._

_He should get lower. Get lower Edward, better center of gravity._

_Be careful son, don't underestimate him._

The thoughts of my brothers and Father invade my mind at the most inopportune time. They distract me right as Jacob lunges and my mind fights to understand what the meaning is. Realizing Bella's shield is down takes me out of the moment and his lethal jaws snap only millimeters from my face and neck. I manage to twist my head away but it costs me. His weight slams into me without restraint, large paws slamming against my shoulders, scrabbling for purchase against my marble like skin. I manage to stay on my feet using my own substantial strength to push back against him. Like two marionette puppets on strings we jostle and dance in a backwards movement that carries us deeper and deeper into the thicker expanse of trees.

Again Jacob gives himself away in his thoughts. As soon as he decides to push forward with more strength and go for my exposed throat, I drop my weight throwing him off balance. He staggers and I drive back up again shoving my shoulder into his chest, forcing him back. The meaty thunk of connection fills me with pleasure, his flesh bruising and swelling instantly. While he staggers under the momentum I gather my head back together again and reach for his left front leg. Done with toying, done with playing, my hate expands and everything becomes clear and easy and oh, I've waited so long for this. Grasping his limb, I spin again and with my back to his chest I snap the leg like a twig. He howls and I drive my elbow back into his partially healed ribs. The new crack is a thousand times better than the first, and his whimpering cry satisfies something primal and dark inside that begs for sustenance.

Spinning again with blinding speed I smash one hand to his chest digging in for purchase. I could easily rip his heart from the cavity where it rests, but instead I dig past fur and flesh as he howls. Hot blood reeking of dog and life gushes over my hand and arm and still I dig deeper past slippery layers of flesh and fat and muscle. Down until I find purchase in his chest bone. Bone that crackles like brittle shale as it shatters beneath the punishing force of my grip and the razor sharp diamond hard ends of my nails.

The smell of his blood triggers something darker than thirst and I lean close until my face is in his, my voice a lethal hiss. "For every ounce of pain you gave her, I will give you tenfold. Beg me, _dog_. Beg the way she did. Plead if you can find a voice outside of this pain."

His mind rears, retracts in on itself in shock and disbelief and endless arrogant pride. He cannot believe the wounds I've inflicted so quickly. Spinning again, I remove my hand from his insides and drop him to the ground.

Fury races through him once more and fueled by rage and adrenaline he instantly tries to leap at me though he's weak and off balance. I spin and we collide, my hands finding his jaw, sliding past his teeth so that I can clamp around his jaw bone, ignoring the razor sharp edges that spill my burning venom into his mouth. He chokes and we spin again, smashing against another tree, then another and another until we are nothing more than a dancing blur in the minds that watch us. Minds that beg and plead and rant in a language I no longer understand…

His mouth fills until he's choking as I purposely grind my flesh against his teeth, hearing them, _feeling_ them splinter in his mouth. The hot cloying stench of his wolf blood combines with his pain filled thoughts until I'm frenzied with dark glorious pleasure. Like the merciless predator I am I toy with him once again, snapping his jaw, spinning again as he flails, uselessly raking me with claws and snarling in pain and anger and confused fear. Trees snap at our passing, branches dropping like leaves, trunks quivering, falling as I smash him against every surface I can find, faster and faster. Harder and harder, his blood smearing, dripping like a rain of red and pain, splattering the ground, painting the bark, staining and steaming in the cold.

His mind revolts, turns in on itself in self pity as I block every useless trick he tries to employ. Immature and inexperienced he's no match for me. He repeats the same lunge, the same swipe, the same pathetic reliance on brute strength that had helped him win against several newborns in the fight against Victoria. But I am no newborn and I see every thought he has. Even the ones where anger turns to desperation and where desperation turns to fear then back again to desperation.

_Edward. Please. Hear me. I don't want this… Not like this… I love you, please…_

I almost falter again. Bella's voice in my mind hauntingly real, but the ice cold veil of rage contains me, locks me in my hate and need. I reach for Jacob in mid spin, smashing him to the ground. His bones rattling, his fur matted with damp earth and leaves and blood…

_Please…_

Bella. She's suffered so much. So much pain and illness and sadness, all things she never deserved. Not her. Not my light, my life, the rhythm of my useless silent heart. I failed her, but never again. She will be safe. I will make her safe and he will suffer. Jacob Black will suffer and die…

The ribs on Jacob's right side shatter as easily as did those on his left. His right front leg smashes just as satisfyingly as his other. His skin slices beneath my nails. His flesh tears beneath my clawed fingers. Muscle shreds as easily as paper. Sinew and tissue and substance, tendon and cartilage. All of it fails beneath the punishing pain I inflict again and again and again. After the wound I inflicted on his chest I let not one drop of his blood touch me. Nor do I even once use my teeth to tear at him. The scent of his blood is foul and not what I crave from this death; only pleasure in the primal sense can slake the thirst I feel now.

When his mind is consumed by physical pain I remember every minute injury he inflicted on Bella and find a way to make him suffer more. When his thoughts turn at last away from himself and to the Pack, I beg him to call them. To give me a chance to nourish the cold hard ground with the blood of everyone who dared to place my reason for living in danger.

His thoughts have the Pack whining and howling, trying to creep forward to save his useless hide. He orders them not to act despite the fact he knows death is very close for him. His tangled thoughts show loyalty and protection. Finally the child becomes a man. Not that it matters. Too little too late and he will find no mercy in me.

I curl my right hand around his throat. The feel of his larynx bunching and contorting is like glass covered in tissue paper it's so fragile. Inside all the fight goes out of him, both mentally and physically. In my grip he transforms back to human form, as though he no longer has the strength or life essence to maintain his wolf shape. The light in his eyes is dim and accepting, as too are his thoughts. Like a fading light his mind no longer thinks in words I can read. Only in flickering images too disjointed to make sense perhaps to anyone but him.

"The Pack will live if they choose," I hiss at him, and lift him from the ground so that he dangles from my clasp. "But not you, Jacob Black. You've fallen beyond redemption." I lean close to drink in the last of his suffering and smile. "I'll see you in hell."

**Bella's POV**

Rosalie stops suddenly and I see Alice's arm restraining her. She looks at me, pain flashing in her eyes.

Panic flares and I kick against Rose's hold. "No, let me go. No, Alice. You can't see, you can't know…"

"Bella, she doesn't need to see." Rose lets me go spinning to balance me when my knees nearly give out sliding from her back. "We can hear. It's over."

Esme's hands reach out as though to hold me, but I find my balance and start to run. In the distance I can see something. Like people or shapes or…wolves lying in the grass. God, no. I can't be too late I can't.

"Bella. No!"

"Let her go, Alice. She needs to see it with her own eyes…"

Neither Alice nor Rose's words mean anything.

My feet are so hopeless, yet somehow I find more speed and I'm closer than I think. Crashing through a small cropping of deadfall I suddenly spot Edward. My eyes rake over him looking for injuries and finding none. I tell myself no matter what happens, no matter what has happened I can deal with anything as long as he's okay. He looks okay, but then he reaches down and picks something up. Something dark and matted and huge…

Jacob. Oh God. He's dead, I'm too late. I'm too late. I'm too late.

Before my eyes Jacob changes. He hangs from Edward's hand limp and covered in blood and dirt and things I can't imagine. Things I don't want to imagine. The smell of blood is everywhere, a thick copper reek that clogs my throat until I taste bile.

Edward leans close to Jacob. His face is a dark sneering mask, his eyes black as midnight, lips tight over teeth that gleam like serrated metal.

"I'll see you in hell."

I try to scream, to tell him to stop but my throat clenches down in panic and sickness and all that comes out of my mouth is a soundless plea. "No…"

Edward's head cocks to the right, his body turning very still. My heart slams in my chest with sudden brutal thumps that make me wonder if it hadn't stopped for the space of impossible moments. His nostrils flare and my mind begs.

_Please, please. Not like this… Stay with me, I need you…Please…_

Finally he turns his head and our eyes meet. I ignore the body that hangs from his hand and the memories that threaten to boil over. I ignore the way his eyes are so black they've consumed all color so that not a single slice of iris is discernable. I manage finally to find some volume in my voice as everything goes blurry with hot blinding tears.

"No."

A tremor goes through him breaking the marble statue form and I repeat the word quietly, pleadingly.

"No."

His head cocks a bit further and my hands curl at my sides in useless fists. I ache to reach out to him but I know my Edward isn't there right now. I can only pray he's inside, listening.

"Please."

It happens slowly. In increments. The hand around Jacob's throat loosens. His eyes focus on me fully. His stone still body finally seems to move and his head turns back to Jacob with a low harsh growl that grows and grows until it is a roar that fills the air. If I wasn't so frozen I'd cover my ears that begin to ache with the sound.

"Please," I whisper again, knowing he can hear me. Praying he can hear me. Behind me I feel Esme, Alice and Rose watching, waiting. Rose is very close and I can feel her almost poised as though one wrong move will have her snatching me into her grasp and running away. Jasper, Carlisle and Emmett are crouched, watching the Pack that remains frozen in the distant clearing.

Edward's growl finally dies and his eyes fall shut. One last small tremor and he releases Jacob the way someone would let a bag of trash fall from their grasp. The sickening thud of Jacob's body hitting the ground sends a wave of nausea and fear rippling over my stomach. I can't assimilate, can't think, can't even really breathe until suddenly Edward turns back to me, his eyes finally focused, his heartbreakingly beautiful face a quiet mask I cannot read. In less than a few impossibly fast strides he's in front of me. Falling to his knees he wraps his arms around my middle and with one shaky deep breath his face presses into my stomach.

The sound of the rain hitting the leaves and ground mingle with the harsh panting breaths that slip out of my mouth sounding like sobs. I realize I'm still saying please over and over again, though I can only barely hear the words with my throat still clamped tight around each released syllable. The top of Edward's head is wet from the rain, darkening the copper to tarnished brass. Slowly, as though I'm in a dream, I watch my hands come up and curl into the cold damp strands. Finally the air comes easier into my starved lungs and my heartbeat slows while my tears fall with the rain and land in Edward's hair.

Jacob remains where he fell, utterly still save for the barely noticeable rise and fall of his bloody, torn chest. He's alive. For now.

* * *

A/N I told you this wouldn't be pretty, lol. Some of you will think this was harsh, others will think it wasn't harsh enough. Whichever side of the fence you're on I ask that you have faith in me and in my vision, this isn't over yet. Not for Jacob, and certainly not for Bella or Edward. Either way I hope you'll take a minute to let me know what you think.

To everyone who is still reading. Thank you!

Aleea


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37 

**Suffer**

_"Revenge is barren of itself: it is the dreadful food it feeds on; its delight is murder, and its end is despair." ~ Friedrich Schiller_

**Bella's POV**

The silence is eerie. I can hear my own harsh breathing and the sound of the rain tapping against the leaves and ground, but little else. Against the curve of Edward's skull, tangled in the soaking wet strands of his hair, my fingers have gone numb with cold and the sheer tightness of my grip. My eyes refuse to focus so that all I see is a blur of copper and burnt sienna. Rich saturated colour contrasting violently with the ghost pale sticks of my fingers.

The air reeks of blood. It sticks in my nose and burns in my sinuses. It clogs my throat and tickles the gag reflex forcing me to swallow the taste over and over again, burying the metallic tang of rusting nickel and copper pennies in well water until my stomach churns.

Maybe the sound of it twisting and writhing in complete and utter disgust is what finally wakes Edward from his frozen state on his knees. He inhales slowly, once, and then rises so quickly to his feet there is no discernable movement. One moment he's kneeling, the next he's standing.

His mouth is a grim line, lips compressed almost as tight as the jaw beneath them. The entire circumference of his eyes is black, bottomless and burning from his pale white face. This is the predator, the vampire, the dark creature that Edward has tried for so long to protect me from. When his eyes meet mine I begin to shake, though not from fear. This is a letdown response, the adrenaline finally draining while muscles tensed for too long begin to tremble in relief and exhaustion.

Edward's hand rises as though to touch my face. It stops mere inches from its goal, so close I can feel the cold of his skin and see the blood encrusted beneath his fingernails. Smell the titian smear across his wrist that dissolves in the rain and trickles beneath the cuff of his shirt. More rusted metals to stick thickly to my tongue.

"Don't be afraid."

Even his voice is different. Like liquid silk rippling over refined granite. Though he seems to be whispering, the tone is resonant. The flashes of his teeth behind each word are razor sharp and starkly white surrounded by the red slash of his mouth. He's hypnotizing and darkly beautiful, and I can't help the sob that catches in my throat.

"I'm not afraid." I turn my head and press my lips to his freezing cold palm, ignoring the blood and the wet drops of rain. Another sob and I fling myself into his arms, clinging as hard as I can to his body while my knees give out and the traitorous ground tries to slide out from under my feet. There is no hesitation in the arms that come around me and hold me close like iron bands of safety and comfort. His clean pure fragrance obliterates the smell of blood and soaked wet earth, allowing me to breathe deeper and I drink in greedy mouthfuls. I feel his lips in my hair and his chilly breath at my temple, a sonant sigh that sounds like my full name.

"Isabella."

A guttural groan, wet with pain has Edward spinning, pushing me behind him. My heart hammers in my chest as I catch a glimpse of Jacob stirring on the ground. Though it can only have been a few short minutes since my arrival in this nightmare scene, it feels like hours. That everyone still remains frozen in the same position is proof that my perception is drastically off. The Pack has not moved. I can see them, barely, a good distance away. Small yowls and yips begin simultaneously with Jacob's newest groan. I can't be certain but they seem to be twitching in place as though they are fighting some kind of restraint, desperate to break free.

Alice, Esme and Rose remain behind me with Rose still closest. Esme and Alice have moved farther out as though to protect the right and left of us. In front of us Jasper, Emmett and Carlisle continue to watch the Pack, postures silent and eerily still like chiselled statues in the rain.

Again with the movement my eyes can't catch, Edward turns back and faces me. I blink rapidly, my mind fighting to compensate for what my eyes can't read. His ice cold, hard hands blur to my face and he cups them around my jaw and cheeks, his breath hissing through his teeth.

"I would have you safe. I would finish this. Now."

There is no question in his tone, but in the bottomless black marble of his eyes I can see he's giving me the choice. Finally.

There is no hesitation in my answer. "No."

For the space of uncountable heartbeats Edward stares at me. I always thought, even if he couldn't read my mind, that somehow he could see into my soul. With these eyes it's no longer a thought. It's a truth that runs through my body like a heated wave, and when his eyes close tightly enough that the frame of his thick black lashes rest on the purple shadows of his marble skin, I know he's heard me.

The knowledge of that is deep enough that when he releases me and moves back to Jacob with lightening speed and lethal strength, I do not flinch. Not even when he drags Jacob up off the ground and suddenly appears in front of me, slamming Jacob onto his knees, yanking his head back with a force that should snap his neck.

He's naked, covered in blood and dirt and bits of debris like crushed leaves. Half healed wounds look all that more grotesque for their in between state, and his bare limbs seem oddly disjointed. Muscles twitch beneath his tan skin, mottled with bruising I can literally watch changing shape and pattern and colour as his body struggles to heal. His eyes are closed. If it wasn't for his erratic painful breathing and the tight clench of his jaw I'd think he was unconscious. He isn't.

My heart hammers. My nose full of the stronger smell of fresh blood, and sweat, and pain, feels clogged and swollen, as though infected. I can feel the heat of him, rising off his flesh, steaming in the colder air. That heat triggers a violent wave of memories, inducing a nausea far worse than that caused by the smell of blood. I want to cringe but don't. Tears burn the back of my throat as I stare at him. The sudden urge to violate him in some way is frightening. I want to claw his face, jam the heel of my boots into the soft parts of his body, spit on him. My frozen fingers won't form claws. My feet stay cemented to the ground. My mouth is too dry and decimated to form moisture.

Underneath all of the violence and anger and pain is something else. Pity. It walks up my spine and settles in my chest with an unwelcome weight. The red hot embers of anger rattle the walls of the space I've confined it in and the contrast between the two emotions knots deep in my psyche, tearing at me.

Edward pulls harder on Jacob's hair until the chords of his neck stand out like ropes and tautly stretched wires. In my own body my nerves are stretched just as tight, maybe even tighter. The wolves are getting more agitated, their howls hurting my ears. Edward ignores them as if they don't exist, black eyes fixed with hate on Jacob.

"Look at her, Jacob Black." He seethes. "Open your eyes and look at her. Tell me you can't see the truth of what you did in her eyes. Tell me you still think it's all a lie."

When his eyes open all the pity falls away with what I see. He doesn't remember and he doesn't believe. Inside of my mind I start looking for doors and one by one I close them tight. Sealing in the light and moving on to the next, moving through a darkness as familiar as a friend.

**Edward's POV**

My focus on Jacob's mind is absolute. The whining simpering of the wolves is nothing more than static. Billy's mind is quiet now, watchful, my family the same. It's Jacob's mind I search, latching on to every weak flitting thought in his twisted head. I want to hear the sound of the truth hitting his brain, I want to relish the...

Silence. Like a heavy blanket, smothering, confining and entirely complete. It happens with a suddenness that is stunning despite the fact that I have felt it before. Bella.

She's pale. A shade of white reserved for morgues and caskets and dank holes six feet deep. As quickly as the dark metaphors fill my mind two bright spots of colour appear on her cheeks. Flushes of heat infused pink that do nothing but call greater attention to her pallor, like the fever blush of the critically ill.

For a moment her eyes search the clearing while I strive to make sense of her shield. Once again like earlier I can feel the weight of it around me. An intricate spider's web woven so tightly; one that shifts beneath my mental pushing and yet never gives more than a tiny amount at any one spot.

I can hear her heartbeat, steady and even now, in rhythm with her breath. The sound of the rain hitting her soft human skin and the softer sound of it hitting the gossamer fabric of her cream coloured blouse. It turns transparent, the bell like sleeves molding to her delicate forearms. The heavier camisole beneath remains opaque but forms itself around her like a second skin. Droplets of water drip from her fingertips, more droplets dripping from the ends of her drenched hair. When her eyes meet mine they burn from her pale features alive with flames.

Her gaze returns to Jacob, moving over his face and down his body, her expression blank. His wounds are healing, slowly but surely. None of them are fatal. I'd been careful in my rage to only inflict pain, wanting him to suffer and remain conscious right up to the moment I would have snuffed out his life.

His throat is battered, his vocal chords bruised and swollen and I watch without remorse as he swallows, struggling to form words. I'd rather snap his neck than have him articulate one syllable to her. It would be so ridiculously easy. One sharp tug and the back of his head will touch his spine. My fisted hand clenches hard and I'm rewarded with the pain filled hiss of breath through his clenched teeth and the sound of hair separating from scalp.

Still his lips move, soundless and pathetic. Bella reaches out and lays one hand, fingertips only across his blood smeared mouth. The flames in her eyes burn hotter.

"You don't believe."

Despite the incredible agony he must be in, Jacob's eyes flare and his mouth curls in a derisive growl.

Bella smiles. It's only the faintest twitching of her lips, a reflex that never places an ounce of emotion in her eyes and still it shocks him, makes him twitch as though he wants to pull away. Around the weak chameleon smile are black shadows of her pain.

"I want you to know what you did. I want you to feel what I felt." She swallows audibly and the tremors that had stopped begin again. Her fingers fall away from Jacob's mouth and I want to let go of him and reach for her, but she reaches behind her and whispers Rose's name instead. It's my sister's arms that go around her and anchor her.

"Tell me what you need, Bella." Rose's eyes dart to me and I don't need to read her mind to read the warning there. Don't interfere.

Bella takes a deep breath. "Jasper." He's there at her side before the sound of his name is even complete, and it comes to me now what she's attempting to do.

The Pack's howling escalates as they grow restless and uneasy with the unknown.

"Show him what I felt, Jasper." She shakes her head and takes a few small steps back. "I wish I could block you so you don't have to..."

Jasper's hands suddenly cup Bella's face, his expression a dark mask of fury and pain. "Shh." He brushes his lips over her forehead fiercely and then turns to Jacob his expression turning to one of murderous hate. Reaching down he grabs Jacob's face nearly tearing him from my grasp. "My sister suffered at your hands. Feel what she felt." Jasper's fingers link with Bella's and the emotions begin, pouring over everyone.

Jacob flinches violently.

The Pack whimpers, ears pinning back against skulls, wet fur twitching while their paws scrabble at the ground beneath them. Muzzles curl and eyes roll as Jasper pushes fear and pain and panic and heartbreak in waves that spare none of them.

Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, and Alice stand still and unaffected.

Bella's eyes turn to mine and the web like shield dissolves from my mind as her memories begin. A wave of sadness and confusion hits me like a wall. Through the projected emotion I see it all again.

_The house, the meal they'd shared, Jacob drinking the wine, pulling her into his lap on the kitchen floor, holding her there._

"Tell him," she whispers as tears begin to fall faster and thicker than the rain, rich with the smell of Bella and her pain. "Tell him all of it, Edward."

The noise in my head is an implosion. A sudden rush of thoughts louder and clearer than any I've heard before. I hear the individual Pack members, Carlisle, Emmett, Alice. Sam's helpless fury, Billy's resolved understanding. He wants this. He wants Jacob to understand, to know what it is he has done, once and for all.

Every thought Esme has and every one behind it spills into my mind. All of Rose, not just the surface but the layers beneath, the ones she hides. The pure heart of my brother and his need to avenge Bella, his family, me. It's too much and over it all, loudest of all, is Bella's memories. Shredding me, eviscerating me...

_Jacob at the door, shaking in rage. The inevitability of his thoughtless anger as he grabs Bella, demanding answers, bruising her tender flesh beneath his crushing uncaring grasp..._

_Tell him, Edward. Tell him what he did, all of it..._

Bella's thoughts push at me and I focus on her, only on her, leaning down closer to Jacob, hissing in his ear. My mind opens farther and with every image I see and describe, the feeling grows. Jacob's thoughts are mine. I see each wave of useless denial crumble beneath the onslaught of words and emotion. I hear his excuses dissolve beneath the burning torrent of heat and truth. I use my words to paint pictures and details, describing everything. All of it. Every action, every vile word and heartbreaking plea, listing his crimes while his mind falls beneath our combined gifts.

Beneath our grip Jacob squirms, like a fish on a hook, his mouth opening and closing in gasping breaths. His mind opens further and his struggles stop, suddenly going still under the attack. My words and Jasper's gift combine and invade his head further and further, tearing away his self protective layers. He trembles under her fear, feeling it as if it is his own.

_The force of Jacob slamming Bella against the wall, hands groping, mouth suffocating her in unwanted kisses, her pain, her helpless fear. Her desperate panic when she can't breathe._

_Her body falling against the couch, the breaking of her ribs._

Jacob flinches and whines as Jasper draws on Bella's anguish and the latent power of her mind. Not just a powerful shield but an enhancer. Her gift is strengthening ours even as she protects the others. A gagging sound works its way up Jacob's throat but Jasper keeps a tight clench on his jaw forcing him to swallow the bile, choke on it.

_Bella, pleading, begging and crying as Jacob's hands tear at her clothes..._

Jacob begins to groan, a deep visceral sound of negation and desperate denial. He's begun to picture my words, some hidden part of his brain recognizing the truth. He sees his hands gripping Bella's arms and pinning them. He sees her face, pale and afraid.

Behind us I hear the wolves whimpering, shifting; their thoughts continuing to register the emotions Jasper emits. The Paul wolf so arrogant and eager in his anger only moments ago now whines continuously, sickened by the emotional damage Jacob had caused. Only Esme, Alice, Emmett and Carlisle are exempt. Even Billy has begun to cry, softly, remorse a weak compensation for the havoc and pain they all enabled.

"You did this, Jacob," I hiss in his ear as Rose lays her hand over the top of his head. Rose who none of us ever suspected had her own gift. Rose who may not have realized it herself. Like Jasper's gift she can sense and also impart emotion though she must touch someone to do so. Her touch heightens what is already overwhelming and like a small child Jacob seems to curl in on himself with the now crushing weight.

_The heavy wooden coffee table smashes against the wall, Bella falls..._

"Stop... No." A pathetic whimpering plea escapes Jacob's throat.

"You were merciless, don't ask us for what you never gave," I snarl. "Feel her pain, drown in it. Know the truth of what you did to her."

Bella's images begin to falter, growing hazy; the colours all running together like watercolour paintings viewed too closely. Jasper imparts her confusion, the power of the drug working her mind, stealing her concentration. I breathe all of it into Jacob's ear and relish his new understanding.

"The minds of your Pack are full of images of the aftermath of what you did," I hiss. "Too bad you are weak and human and cannot see it." Remembering Bella in shock and pain, lying so quiet in my arms, is all too easy. The blood streaking her mouth, bruises already forming over skin so pale its ethereal is not an image I will ever outlive.

I see the last effect of Jasper's final mental push in his head, and I chant more words to match and explain all he can now feel. Bella crying out a moment before the gun went off. Screaming just before Jasper's gift had sent her deeply unconscious so Carlisle could examine her and give us the proof we needed to know that some mercy did exist. A harder push imparting the distress of physical pain, the burning sickness of fever and illness and confusion, the fear she carries still within her very being, the one that follows her into dreams his father haunts.

Finally Bella's mind runs clear and she crumples in on herself, falling to her knees on the soaked ground. Her breathing is harsh and her skin tone is gray, though her eyes are clear, snapping with life and defiance. Jasper releases Jacob but I do not. I force his head up once again and snarl his name in his ear. The pressure snaps his eyes open as his body contorts to save his neck. I give him no quarter to absorb all that he's experienced, and once again I urge him to look at her. I want him to carry this memory with him forever. Bella hurting but not defeated. Defiant and frighteningly beautiful. I can see now a shimmer of what she will be in immortal life and the image is stunning. Nothing will compare to her and I see in his mind that he sees it also. His thoughts scramble and stutter as he tries desperately to wrap this image with who he believes her to be. He fails

"Do you see her, Jacob?" I ask, threateningly evoking a thousand hidden meanings in the question. Do you see that you could not break her? Do you see that she is stronger than you could ever be? Do you see that she belongs to me, now more than ever? Do you see that she is mine? That she will always be mine. Do you see that you failed, you pathetic fucking dog? She has always been mine. Always...

"You're alive because your death will not be allowed to stain her soul. You're alive because she is all that is good and right in this world. For her and her alone I will spare your miserable existence so that she will know peace again in her life. "

Cranking his neck farther I turn his head cruelly back to me. His eyes no longer burn; his mind no longer fights the truth. As much as a mind without memory can know the truth, his does.

"Kill me." His voice is twisted wreckage, nothing more than a garbled hiss. His mind is full of sudden self loathing. "If I did this... I can't live with this... I can't..."

I snarl loudly. The urge to grant his self pitying request is overpowering. My hands tremble with it, venom I don't need flooding my mouth in a rush.

"No," Bella repeats and I close my eyes striving down deep, farther down than I have ever had to reach to find some semblance of my former self. "No," she whispers again, and this time I know she's speaking only to me. "He doesn't deserve to die."

_Oh, love. The mercy in you runs deeper even than the hate in me..._

I let go of him, knowing I cannot resist the urge to kill him when I can feel the life he doesn't deserve thrumming beneath my hands. Too weak to remain upright he slumps forward on his hands, his broken arm contorting weirdly.

Jacob gags, retching blood and bile onto the ground and I watch him, relishing the new state of his mind. His realization of what he has done is stripping him raw, every new thought in his mind now a thousand times more pain inducing than any injury I've bequeathed upon his body. Finally something in me begins to clear.

Tipping my head back I close my eyes and draw the cleaner air into my lungs, clearing away the stench of wolf blood and hate. I listen to the sounds of the Shaman, struggling in his broken human body to shove his wheelchair through the mud that sucks and tries to mire him to the ground. Listen as his breathing grows ragged with exertion as he attempts to move around the shattered tree limbs slick with his son's blood. Wait until he's close enough to reach out with trembling fingers to his only son who flinches away from the attempted contact, waiting longer still for him to speak.

"The treaty isn't broken." His voice is loud, echoing through the space. He strives to sound calm and sure, and fails. Each word rings with his fear and desperation. Spinning his chair he turns to face Carlisle, perhaps because I don't respond. "It isn't broken, Carlisle. This can end, right now."

I stop breathing and lower my head when he turns back to me, nailing him with a stare that hides nothing of my feelings. Raking through his mind I see that he truly believes Jacobs death will only bring more hate and pain. I see his unrelenting love for his broken child. His remorse and guilt and all it means to him.

"Let him go, Edward." His plea might as well be the wind it's uttered so quietly. "Take Bella back into the light, help her heal. Let this be over. Let him go."

Like a lightning strike without warning, my arm snaps out and my hand wraps around Billy Black's throat. His startled gasp is not at all quiet, though it's strangled off in a heartbeat as my fingers clamp down, closing his airway. "Your arrogance is astounding," I snarl viciously. "I told you once and I'll tell you again, one last time. _She_ is the conscience that governs me. Only her. Your son's black heart beats in his chest this very minute because _she_ asked it of me. I care nothing about your useless treaty, Dream Walker. I care even less what you want. _She_ decides, only her. Only. Ever. Her. _Shaman_." His title is a sneer on my lips delivered in a rush of venom scented breath. Releasing his neck harshly, he sags back in his chair, gasping to draw air. Before it has time to fill his burning lungs my hand is back around his sons throat and Jacob once again dangles from my fingers, bare feet dragging on the ground. The rain washes the blood from his wounds in rivulets down his legs. There is no fight in him and the Pack is strangely quiet.

"You will live," I tell him in an adamant dark hiss. "One lifetime, Jacob Black. One lifetime to remember what you've done, to live with the memories you tried to escape. How long that lifetime lasts is up to you so hear me now, _dog_. You will never come near her again. You will never force her to endure the sight of your face or the sound of your voice. Above all else," I snarl darkly, "you will never again let her name pass your lips." My hands squeeze tighter mangling his vocal chords, perhaps beyond repair. His leg muscles spasm briefly, but not once do his hands even twitch to try to stop me.

"If you're near, I will smell you. If you breathe her name, I will hear you. And make no mistake Jacob. I will come for you." He sags in my hold, the light in his eyes dimming. I let the cold skin of my cheek brush his as I lean in close, the near silent cold whisper of my last words meant for his ears alone. "Don't mistake my loyalty to her for weakness. There is little I would not do to give her peace, but there is _nothing_ I would not do to keep her _safe_."

Before his oxygen starved mind can shut down I toss him aside with a flick of my wrist that sends him sprawling twenty feet away. I hear more bones snap as he lands and the wet sound of the rain soaked earth giving way beneath him. Before those sounds fade my arms are around Bella, lifting her from where she kneels, cradling her close to my chest, drinking in her scent and her warmth.

"Carlisle." I whisper my Father's name in plea and he answers silently.

_Go, Edward. Quickly. Take her home; get her warm, care for her. I will finish things here._

My answer is a brief nod and then I'm moving.

At my touch the quiet resilience about Bella shatters. I expect fear, am prepared to be gentle and careful to show her she need not be afraid of me, but there is none. Her body curls into mine instantly, and she tucks her head into my neck with a tiny, near silent sob. As I begin to carry her away from the ugliness she should have never been witness to she cries against me like a small trusting child.

Walking away with the sound of Jacob's beating heart echoing in my ears is nearly unbearable.

Only her heartbeat matters, I tell myself as my legs move faster. Behind us I hear and see Emmett move to Jacob. I hear the Pack growl and Billy begin to plead, the sound of his wheelchair wheels sticking in the muddy ground overlaid by the sound of Alice's hands wrapping around the handles, stopping him completely.

Through his eyes and hers, Carlisle's and Esme's and the now howling Pack still trapped by Jacob's alpha command, I see him reach down and grab Jacob's mud splattered ankles. The bones and flesh look startlingly fragile in Emmett's huge fists.

"When you shattered my little sisters ribs you set off a chain of events that made her so sick she nearly died." Emmett's tone is quiet. It would be almost conversational if it wasn't for the look in his eyes. "I had to hold her legs down just like this in a bath of freezing water. Her skin was on fire underneath my hands, the bones so tiny I swear they were hollow. I could see the bruises all over her from you, from what you did and I watched as my hands made brand new ones."

I can see the way his fingers bite down into Jacob's skin, see the exact moment where they meet the meagre resistance of his bones even as my legs carry Bella and I farther and farther away.

"I listened to her sob and scream and beg us not to keep her in that water." His tone of voice is darker now. "She was so sick and I tried to hold her like she was made of glass." Emmett's eyes close taking away the vision of Jacob on the ground. I can still see him through the other minds. A kaleidoscope of visions inlaid one upon the other. "I'm very bad at judging my strength..." Emmett's eyes open again at the exact moment Jacob's ankle bones shatter and Jacob convulses silently. Emmett smiles. "Rose and I aren't bound by promises. We'll be waiting for you to make a mistake, Black. And you will, sooner or later, you will."

Behind him Rose smiles.

I move faster, past the last trace of destruction wrought in the fight, deeper into the thicker woods, the heavier canopy of trees blocking some of the rain. Bella shivers, her teeth beginning to chatter.

Alice stares at Jacob sadly, Jasper standing protectively at her side watching the Pack, mentally daring them to move. "I wish I could see your future. I wish I could tell you the misery that waits for you while you try to live with what you did," she whispers.

Bella's arms tighten around my neck. "I'm so tired, Edward."

"Close your eyes and sleep, love. I have you."

Behind us Esme has drifted to the deeper shadows, torn between staying to protect the others and following to care for Bella. For a moment her mind contemplates how little anyone pays attention to her, to where she is. She thinks how easy it would be to slip out of the shadows to where Jacob lies and slit his throat. One sharp flick of her nails over the artery she can see throbbing even from where she stands and Bella would be safe forever... She would never even have to know...

Bella's teeth begin to chatter violently. "I'm cold."

"I know, I'm sorry." For a thousand things, so many things...

Carlisle moves to Jacob, his eyes registering Esme's stance, blocking her path to him, knowing his wife. Knowing the Mother of his children. He stares down at Jacob his expression impassive. His medical mind surveys the injuries with clinical detachment, his emotions just as distant. Jacob has succumbed to a stupor just above the level of being unconscious. Carlisle turns away without qualm and directs his words to Billy.

"He'll live."

"Yes." Billy is pale and shrunken in his rain drenched chair.

"Your choice, Elder." Carlisle's tone is cold, formal, the question only barely implied. In his mind I see the desire for some type of further retribution war with his desire to end this without bloodshed.

"The treaty stands."

"We'll be leaving Forks as soon as soon as Charlie Swan is well enough to travel."

Billy hasn't taken his eyes off his son, but he nods. "Bella..."

Carlisle's hiss cuts him off and his eyes snap up flaring with life for the first time.

"She no longer exists to you, Shaman."

Billy's eyes turn inward again, his shoulders falling before his gaze drifts back to Jacob. After a very long moment he nods.

In my arms Bella trembles harder and I begin to run, sheltering her with my arms and body as best I can from the wind and rain.

Behind us our family begins to run as well, leaving behind the death like silence of a defeated Pack and the weary remorse of a broken Shaman. Jacob slips into a merciful darkness he doesn't deserve.

"It's alright, love. We're almost home now."


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N **** *WARNING* The following chapter contains lemons (sexual content) and is intended for older readers. Please heed the M rating of the story. Thanks****.**

**Beta/Octoberland.**

* * *

**Chapter 38**

**The Layers Beneath the Layers**

_**3 days after the confrontation. **_

**Edward's POV**

"She wants to talk to you." Bella pushes the phone into my hands and returns to Charlie's bedside without giving me any indicators as to why. Not that I need them. My acute hearing has allowed me to hear most if not all of the argument that has dominated the last few minutes of their conversation.

"Renee."

"Edward." She sighs and I can hear her shifting the phone to her other ear. "I want to get a plane ticket and come down, but Bella is insisting that I not." Her frustration is palpable.

"She's right. There is really very little you can do here."

"I can be with Bella. I can..."

"Renee, Charlie is doing better each day. He is getting the best treatment possible. And Bella is not alone. I'm here with her, and my Father is as well."

She sighs again and I can almost hear her indecisive thoughts. "I know that. I just..." The line falls quiet for a moment and I can hear her moving about the room, no doubt restless and agitated. "Bella sounds exhausted, and I know her. She's always taking care of everyone else and forgets all about herself. She doesn't seem like herself at all and I..." The sounds made by her movements stop abruptly. "Edward, I trust you. Tell me she is okay and I'll believe you."

Renee is always so much more perceptive than many people would believe. The tone of her voice leaves no doubt to the buried layers of her question that she leaves unspoken.

"She's okay, Renee." The lie falls from my mouth all too easily, even as I watch Bella straighten Charlie's blankets unnecessarily with hands that have yet to stop trembling.

"And you'll call me if anything changes? Anything at all, Edward?" Again her tone is clear even as she makes the phrase vague.

"Yes, of course I will." My answer of assent rings with sincerity. I am nothing if not an expert at falsity.

"Alright." She sighs one last time. "Tell her I love her, hug her tight for me. Tell Charlie..." She makes an uncertain sound of frustration. "Well, tell him I hope he feels better soon." She disconnects without waiting for me to reply and I place the phone back in its cradle quietly.

"She isn't coming, is she?" Bella asks without turning around.

"No."

She nods and the waves of her hair shifting against her back are lustrous and dark against the pale blue of her sweater. "Good. I didn't think she was going to listen there for a minute. Lucky for us she never can hold a decision for more than a short time."

Her voice is oddly disconnected from emotion, tired and listless. The monotone way she speaks making it sound as though she could hardly care less either way. I move behind her and slide my arms around her waist, press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Her hair smells like the starch of hospital linens and the clinging odours of medicine and illness. She does not pull away from me, but neither does her body relax. Since the events three days past she has been quiet and distant, lost in thoughts I cannot read or decipher. Her shield has slipped only twice, both of those during times where Charlie's condition had slipped from critical to grave, spilling a wealth of childhood memories and pleas from her mind to mine.

"If you want your Mother here, Bella..."

She cuts me off quickly. "I don't."

I say nothing more. We've already had this conversation earlier. Renee had been emailing and texting Bella with increasing frequency, perhaps an abeyant mother instinct warning her that something was wrong. Before the inevitable phone call to impart the news of Charlie's condition, Carlisle and I had both told Bella that if she wanted Renee to come we could, and were, quite capable of ensuring the events of the past month be kept hidden from her. Another lie perhaps. Not even Renee could fail to miss the physical impact the last five weeks have had on Bella. I had no clear idea of how we would answer the inevitable questions.

The need to keep our secrets, justified as they may be, could not be placed ahead of Bella's well being however, and Carlisle and I had both agreed. If she needed her Mother we would find a way to make that happen as safely as possible. Bella of course had been adamant. I cannot tell if her decision comes from the need to protect us and Renee, or out of a genuine desire of simply not wanting to deal with another person. I suspect the former, but cannot entirely disregard the latter.

Bella squeezes one of my hands briefly before moving away, back to the orange vinyl chair where she's spent most of the last three days. Curling her feet beneath her she picks up the book she'd allowed me to purchase for her from the hospital gift shop this morning and turns the page. By my count it is the first page she's turned in over two hours and twenty four minutes. I doubt she's read more than a handful of paragraphs in the first chapter and less than that in the second. The paperback political thriller is as far removed from her preferred authors as is possible, and I suspect that is the point.

Her uneaten dinner sits on a tray by the table by the door. I regard it sourly and resist the urge to chastise her out of frustration and fear for not eating. One of the machines that control Charlie's IV begins to beep, and over top of that the hospital intercom kicks in paging yet another Doctor to yet another emergency. Bella flinches at the beeping, her pale face finding some way to grow paler still. Dark eyes full of a fear I've become all too familiar with dart to me.

"It's alright, love." I assure her gently. A nurse, orthopaedic shoes squeaking against the worn floors, slips into the room her face a polite mask of efficiency. She adjusts the monitor, checks Charlie's pulse and slips back out with a small nod. Bella watches everything and even after she leaves and all is quiet, her face holds the fear.

This is no place for her. The strain of all that has happened compiles together with the general air of fear and misery all hospitals generate, and turns her already shredded nerves to battered pulp. She sleeps only fitfully on the small uncomfortable cot in the corner of the room and leaves only for the most basic of necessities. This morning I'd convinced her to come down to the cafeteria for breakfast and to take a small walk through the hospital gift shop. Every second away had eroded at her composure until her anxiety was as painful for me to watch as it must have been for her to experience.

Despite the fact that Alice continued to try to assure her that Charlie's health seemed to be on the mend, Bella refused to leave his side. Heavily sedated, Charlie slept most of the time and not even Carlisle's medical expertise could assuage her fears that Charlie might pass away if she so much as left the room to brush her teeth.

When I'd made it back to the house with Bella after the events in the clearing, my intentions had been to get her warm and dry. Concerned about shock and the toll what she'd witnessed had taken upon her, my only thought was to take care of her immediate needs and to get her far away from the events she'd witnessed and the danger they represented. Bella had resisted violently. Her only concern had been for Charlie.

My mind turns back to those moments while Bella turns back to her book, absentmindedly dog-earring the pages with unfocused eyes.

* * *

"_I want to go see Charlie." Her teeth chattered violently with every word as I cranked the shower on as full and as hot as I thought she could stand._

"_Bella, we need to get you warm. You're freezing," my reply is inane and unnecessary, but my mind is not centered. I am still divided, a split personality, the two halves of my dual identity warring within me._

_I let Jacob live. As I stand here, his body is healing. I walked away from a volatile Pack and a still volatile situation. I walked away and left him alive... _

_I need to get Bella away from here. This house isn't safe. I don't trust them. Any of them..._

"_I'm ffff fine."_

_I reach for her and peel the saturated cottons and denims from her body. She has goose-bumps over goose-bumps. My own shirt gets added to the pile and without removing her bra and panties, or my jeans I lift her in my arms and step inside the shower enclosure. Set her back on her feet with a hand securely on her waist when she seems too dazed to stand on her own._

_I can hear the rest of them coming in the house. Carlisle's thoughts match my own. Despite Billy's assurances he has no trust in any of the Pack members. He quickly begins marshalling the others, directing them to pack necessities quickly. Dividing us equally. He and Esme and Rose and Emmett will stay in Forks and look after Charlie until he's well enough to be moved. Jasper, Alice, Bella and I will head for the house in Alaska._

_Spinning Bella gently, I push her more fully under the heated spray allowing it to cascade over her shoulders and down her back, quickly adjusting the multiple heads so the water is gentle on her sensitive skin. I gentle my own hands and cup her face, striving to push away the anxiety and lingering bloodlust and rage and adopt a calm soothing demeanour. Despite the heated water she continues to tremble. Helping her remove the last traces of her clothing makes my own steady hands want to tremble as well though my nature keeps them completely steady. She's so fragile, so small and delicate and I can't let anything happen to her ever again. I must get her away from this place._

"_Listen to me, love. I need to leave you for a moment." She instantly whimpers. "Only for a moment. I need to pack a few things for us."_

_Her brow furrows in confusion. "Pack?"_

"_Yes. We're going to leave for the Alaska house immediately."_

_Some of the confusion seems to clear, but the space it leaves is just as quickly filled with apprehension. Her breathing changes and I worry she'll escalate into a full blown panic attack if I don't calm her quickly._

"_Hush," I murmur, though in truth she hasn't made a sound. "It's fine. It's only a precaution, love. Only that, nothing more."_

"_Charlie..."_

"_Carlisle, Esme, Rose and Emmett will stay here with him until he's well." I place a gentle kiss on her forehead and leave her there against my better judgement. I can hear Alice already flitting about my room like a whirling dervish, feverishly packing for us. If I didn't have passports and documents for Bella and I both in a safe I would have stayed in the shower and trusted my sister with all other necessities._

_I tear away the sodden jeans that try to hamper my movements, barely pausing long enough to grab a towel before entering the bedroom._

_Alice stops for a second and turns to me. Is she okay? The thought is loud, betraying her anxiety._

"_No." I see no point in painting anything false._

_Alice's eyes close and she resumes her manic packing seemingly without opening them._

"_Alice, I need clothes for..." Before the sentence is finished Alice presses the items I need into my hands. Clothing for both of us. Behind me I hear Bella stumble from the shower._

_Alice leaves the room with the bags headed for the garage, Jasper on her heels as I yank open the safe and pull out the items I need. The passports are a contingency only, but one best not overlooked. The wedding band I'd had designed to match the engagement ring that had once belonged to my Mother rests on a stack of cash. I take them both not bothering to wonder why I'm compelled to do so._

_I'm dressed with the paperwork securely tucked in my jacket by the time Bella makes it into the bedroom. Her hair drips down her back and lands on the carpet behind her._

"_I'm not leaving, Edward." Her tone is soft yet not at all uncertain. She repeats it when I hold out her clothes. "I'm not leaving."_

"_Love, get dressed, please."_

_I left him alive... The thought galls me, pulls at me like a thousand invisible hands trying to shove me back in the direction of that dismal little clearing. I should be focussed on her and yet my mind refuses to clear, refuses to let go of the mentality of a predator intent on his prey._

_Bella dresses slowly while I gather a few more items for her. A blanket from the bed, her hairbrush from the dresser. When I turn she's pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail ignoring the rain and wind blown snarls. Her hands shake like a victim of palsy and her breathing is uneven with her soft heartbeat when she buttons her top._

_Carlisle enters the bedroom and she turns to him instantly. "I'm not leaving, Carlisle."_

_He crosses the distance to her at normal human speed and gently takes her shoulders. He's doing better than I at portraying a sense of calm he doesn't feel. He is not worried for himself or any of us. His concern is only for her and what another confrontation could do to the fragile state of her mind and body. Like the passports in my pocket his wanting to leave is based on precaution only. He doubts the Pack will rally too quickly and even doubts they will rally at all, but it isn't a chance either of us is ready to take._

"_Bella. I know this has been an extraordinarily difficult day, but you must trust us now. We only want you safe."_

"_Safe from what?" Her voice is too high. "Jacob is... he's... He can't possibly do anything; even if he can heal it'll still take days." Turning her head she looks at me with wide eyes. "You nearly..." A small bark of a laugh escapes her throat and she clamps both hands over her mouth to stifle the hysterical edge to the sound. "You know what you did to him, Edward. Do you really think he's going to just jump up and come running here...? To do what? And the treaty? You didn't kill him, so it still stands, they can't do anything!"_

_Carlisle calls her attention back to him. "This isn't about Jacob. Some of the Pack members may want revenge against Edward for what he did. We can't assume the treaty will hold. Sam's leadership is weak at best and Jacob's mind frame is frighteningly unstable."_

_Bella's eyes close and as her lashes touch her pale cheeks I want to tear the entire room down around us in bitter frustration and rage. I wanted to give her peace and all I've done is give her more pain, more fear._

_Edward. Be calm. You're going to frighten her._

_In the mirror above the dresser my reflection is dark. Black eyes, pale skin, lips drawn back over teeth still eager to slash into flesh that is no longer in my grasp. The monster in me that I have always feared is very close to the surface once again. I no longer need to worry about his intentions towards Bella. He is more possessive and protective of her than I have ever been. I push him back once again and when Bella opens her eyes my expression at least is neutral, though I can do nothing with my eyes._

"_I can't leave. Not with Charlie..."_

"_I'll be here," Carlisle insists. "Esme, Rose and Emmett and I. We'll all stay and care for Charlie. When he's well enough to travel, we'll come and meet you and Edward and Alice and Jasper at the Alaska house. Everything will be fine."_

"_You can't say that, Carlisle. You can't promise that, you don't know if my Dad will even live through this."_

"_Alice..."_

_Bella's hands rise to clamp over her ears like a small child as she shakes her head. "No! Alice can't know for sure. If something changes, and it could, she won't... and he'll... be all alone... I won't... I can't... do that. Not again. I can't leave him again, you can't ask me to do that. I have to stay..."_

_I reach for her, but she takes a step back and shakes her head violently. Her eyes are so wide, so full of pain. Rose appears in the doorway and then appears just as quickly at Bella's side. She reaches out and Bella turns to her, crumples in her arms like a paper doll shuddering in the wind. Rose hisses and grunts at the contact. Her gift is still so raw and new to her, and Bella's emotions hit her like acid on open wounds. Her enhancing ability has fully woken what was once nearly dormant in Rose's nature._

"_I can't Rose. I can't leave him. I can't let him be all alone and scared and sick. I can't... I can't lose him... I can't leave him... I can't... I need my Dad, please. I need him, don't..." She dissolves into tears and my hands hang uselessly in the air holding on to nothing. _

"_Jesus," Rose hisses. Her eyes turn to us blazing like dirty lava. It's been too long since she's hunted and the black encircles the color like smouldering coals. She wants to push Bella away but to her credit does not. Instead she pulls her closer, trying to use her solid form to stabilize Bella's._

"_Stop it," she hisses. "She can't take anymore." Her words are quiet, meant for our ears alone. "She's breaking. If you take her away from him she'll snap. Her mind can't take anymore of this."_

_As if in illustration of that exact point Bella's shield slams down around us. My mind goes silent, engulfed in the sticky web I cannot break. Jasper and Alice appear in the door and they both shake their heads at me, silently communicating the silence and fog that engulf them as well._

"_I felt her just before. Rose is right, Edward. You can't push her anymore," Jasper confirms in our near silent language. "She's in a very fragile state."_

_Bella's hands move from her ears to her temples and then to her forehead. She whimpers then groans and Carlisle kneels beside her. "What is it, Bella?"_

"_My head," she moans. "It's killing me."_

* * *

And so we'd stayed.

As the memory falls away from the forefront of my thoughts I see Bella raise her hands in a move that has since become frighteningly familiar. She rubs her temples and I check my watch. Carlisle has been giving her prescription strength medicine for migraines as well as several drugs for anxiety and the combination has been mostly keeping the crippling headaches at bay. My watch shows she is almost due for more.

As if the thought conjures his presence Carlisle comes quietly in the room. In order to maintain an aura of normality he's continued his hospital duties, checking in often. He arranged a private room for Charlie, and bent the rules carefully to allow Bella to stay with Charlie in his room. Such was the respect of the hospital staff for him no one looked askance, and the nurses went out of their way to accommodate and even help care for Bella. I monitored their thoughts as well as I could whenever Bella's shield allowed me to and found some suspicion and concern for her, but nothing we needed to be worried about.

Carlisle checks Charlie's vitals and then moves to Bella, the small paper cup with her medication is accepted without comment. The pain of the headaches is enough to keep her normal abhorrence of drugs at bay and is a crystal clear indicator of just how severe they must be. He smoothes her hair gently in a move that has become standard and she smiles at him wearily.

"You didn't eat," he remarks quietly.

"I'm sorry. I'm just not hungry."

"Esme is bringing something for you later. Perhaps she'll be able to tempt you with something better than hospital food," he teases gently, rewarded with another small smile.

"Okay."

"Good."

She returns to her book and he joins me by the door. His thoughts are concerned. Like me he sees this place as the worst possible location for Bella. Charlie's health is finally turning a corner, his heart rate stabilizing, his blood pressure finally under control. Even still it will be at least a week before moving him will be a possibility.

_I can't allow her to go much longer without eating, Edward. _His thought is quiet and censored. Bella's second gift of enhancing hasn't been obvious since the confrontation in the clearing, but I learned much from those moments, the main thing being that underneath each thought is a second layer of intent and reason that I am learning to read.

"I know," I reply, not only to his first thought but to the layers underneath that tell me I have to reach her. Find her underneath the similar layers she is hiding behind like the thoughts in Carlisle's mind.

_Has she been shielding today?_

"For a few hours early this morning. It began while she was asleep."

Carlisle nods, and again his thoughts grow concerned. His theory is that Bella's shield and her inability to control it are sapping her energy and strength and causing a growing terrifying threat to her health. Her appetite lags far beyond normal even for a person under stress. Her hands continue to shake and she has trouble staying warm. Her blood pressure is elevated, her pulse too fast for someone at rest. Combined with the severity of the headaches it is more than obvious that Bella's health is in jeopardy. She's too pale, and too thin. An unhealthy air lays over her entire demeanour and more than once I've seen her wince during simple movements as though her very joints are affected.

"How long can she continue like this, Carlisle."

He sighs, his thoughts showing conflict at trying to narrow down a time. He speaks out loud albeit quietly, too agitated to bother with thoughts. "If she continues exactly as is and I don't intervene medically she has only a few weeks before her health will begin to fail. If she regains her appetite and the stress she's currently under abates..." His hesitation is painful and I want so much to hear him say – indefinitely.

"Six months, perhaps a year with medication to keep her blood pressure under control." His hand finds my shoulder as my mind goes numb and he squeezes tightly. "I'm sorry, son. I know you want to give her as much time as possible to heal from this nightmare she's endured."

"But," I say, surprised in spite of myself that my vampire form does not buckle beneath the weight of his predictions.

His hand squeezes harder. Somewhere down the hall an alarm goes off on a monitor that has ceaselessly toiled to record the heart rate of a patient who has run out of time.

"Yes, but," he replies sadly. "She's only human, Edward. Her mind, her body, they were not made to endure a gift as powerful as hers. Now that this gift is fully engaged and no longer latent..." Carlisle shakes his head, his thoughts clearing displaying his distress at not understanding all the intrinsic factors of her powers. "If she could learn how to control it, perhaps, but I cannot see that happening." Nor does Alice, though he leaves that thought unspoken.

"You don't know that," I hiss adamantly. "There is nothing in your experience that matches her."

"No," he answers gently. "I only have my medical knowledge, Edward, and what I can see here before me now. Look at her son; she's getting weaker every day. Reach her if you can, find a way to pull her out of this darkness and fear that is consuming her, buy her time if that is your wish for her."

He speaks the rest in his thoughts and I resist the urge to growl and smash my fist through the wall.

_Accept that the time will come soon where her change is no longer a luxury you can afford to wait on, Edward. Her body may not have the time her mind needs to heal fully._

Bella shifts in her chair, the tension that is always present now in her body very apparent. She runs a trembling hand through her hair and grimaces slightly, tugging a strand to her nose and wrinkling it in disgust at the miasma of hospital smells tainting her normally floral, strawberry smell.

"Carlisle, can you stay with Charlie until Esme and Alice arrive?"

"Yes, of course."

I move across the room and crouch in front of Bella taking one of her cold hands in one of mine. "Come with me," I say quietly, tugging her gently to her feet.

"Edward..." Her eyes dart nervously to Charlie.

"Carlisle will stay with him, and Alice and Esme are on their way."

"I don't want to leave him."

"Only for a little while, love." I reach down and snag a small bag full of toiletries and clean clothing that Rose had brought for Bella earlier and smile gently at her. "Carlisle's office has a full shower," I tempt.

She hesitates for another second, her teeth coming down to worry her lip. I can see the idea of a hot shower is appealing. Bella is fastidious about hygiene and has to be uncomfortable depriving herself.

"Are you sure?" she whispers to Carlisle.

"Of course," he murmurs, once again smoothing her hair. He takes her chin gently in his fingers. "Take your time, Bella. Charlie is doing very well, and you must remember to take care of your own health as well, sweetheart."

She nods, moving to Charlie's side as though she must see for herself that he is indeed resting comfortably. Her hand touches his briefly before she reaches for mine. I guide her out of the room before anxiety can make her change her mind, desperate to give her a reprieve, however brief she will allow, from the tension and fear.

**Bella's POV**

Carlisle's office is nice. I've been here before, the night everything in my life went to hell, but I don't remember courtesy of the drug that had inadvertently made its way into my blood stream passing from Jacob's mouth to mine. I guess every dark side has a light.

I curl my hands into fists inside my yanked down sleeves trying to get warm while I watch Edward place my things on the vanity in the bathroom. I'm cold all the time now. The pain at the base of my skull is dull thanks to the medications Carlisle gave me, but it never really goes away and it makes my head feel like someone's been kicking it. I feel slightly disconnected and God I am so tired.

Cool fingers ghost over my cheeks and I instinctively turn towards them before catching myself. "Everything is ready for you, love. I'll be right here if you need anything." I fight the urge to look at his eyes and nod. He's so careful with me now, so distant. Even his tone of voice is careful. Gentle like the way someone would talk to a wounded animal. I guess maybe that is what I am now. Bella the broken. Bella the weak. Bella the china doll that has to be coddled and protected or she'll shatter into a thousand pieces. I keep waiting for him to lift me up and put me on a damn shelf. But that isn't fair. He has other reasons not to look at me with anything other than that careful mask, doesn't he?

In the small utilitarian bathroom I start the water and let it gush down into the narrow tub until I see steam. I strip out of my clothes shivering as the air hits skin that already feels leached of any warmth. The shower curtain is white plastic and it rustles stiffly as I tug it across, brushing against my side when I reach in and pull the lever for the shower.

I stand there watching the water beat against all that white. White tile, white tub, white plastic shifting in the air currents the downpour displaces. A white cake of soap rests in an inset white soap dish, a white washcloth lays carefully folded into a perfect square in the corner. White. I hate white. It's so cold, so impersonal, so lacking in depth and warmth and life. White should be the color of funerals, not black.

Before I can over think my next move I wrap a white towel stiff with hospital starch around my body and open the door. Edward is sitting at Carlisle's desk, the backdrop of an overly stuffed bookshelf behind him doing nothing to distract from the sadness in his eyes. I glimpse the emotion for one second before the mask falls back into place.

"What is it? Do you need something? Are you okay?" He rises from the chair cautiously, and again I get the impression he does it so as not to startle me. Like he's afraid I'll run away if he moves to fast. Asking three quick questions in a row is the only sign he's uncertain. His eyes skim quickly down my body and I think I see a flash of heat in his eyes, though it's gone too quickly for me to be certain. I cling to the hope it was there and use it to give me courage.

"I'm okay. I just… I wanted… Will you come in with me?" He doesn't answer right away and panic has me sucking in a quick gulp of air and exhaling words in a muttered rush that is probably only barely intelligible. "I really need you to hold me, just for a little while… I know you're angry with me, but I just… Can you just forget you're mad at me for a few minutes and come in with me, and put your arms around me, because it's too white and it's too much and there's no color... and I'm scared and I'm hurting and I really need you to hold me and touch me…" I swallow, drag in another breath and start to shake harder. "Please. " There is no power to the last plea, I don't even know for sure if it even came out or if it was just air in the shape of a word.

Cold hands as familiar to me as my own cup my face and make me realize that at some point I'd closed my eyes.

"Look at me, Bella," he demands. It's the tone of his voice more than the command that forces them back open. It isn't at all careful or quiet. It's fierce. "I am not angry with you."

Blinking rapidly trying to hold my own against the sweet cold rush of his breath, I shake my head. I don't want to have this conversation. Not now. Please not now. "Please…" Please touch me, please hold me, and please don't lie to protect me. God, just please…

A low growl and the sudden darkening of his eyes is my only warning before his lips are on mine. There is nothing gentle or careful about this kiss. His perfect sculptured mouth presses down over mine mashing my lips to my teeth and making me gasp. I feel a breeze, and then air against my skin, followed with blinding speed by the rush of hot water over my body. My mind catches up with the movements when Edward kisses me again, gentler this time but still with such intensity it steals my air. Not that I want air. Not that I need air.

He's naked, my towel is gone, the water is a perfect flow of heat over my bare skin and his cool hands are the perfect counter pleasure. His tongue presses against the seam of my lips, skates along the fullness of the bottom one, teases at the corners of the top. I moan and he steals inside, stroking my tongue, the roof of my mouth, and the tips of my front teeth with such skill. The flavour of him makes me weak kneed. His hands glide over my skin, along my back, down to my hips, the tender skin just underneath my bottom.

More. I just want more.

Against my mouth he growls again. "I am not angry with you." Words punctuated with fierce kisses.

I feel him trying to pull back and cling harder. I can't talk about this now, not now. I just need to feel, him, this, please... "I don't care," I cry desperately against his lips, pressing my own tighter to his when he growls again. "Please, just touch me." I can barely breathe. The need is like a physical entity clawing at me, entirely relentless.

"I care," he growls, spinning me until I face the water, making me cry out for fear he'll leave me. His arms come around me, one hand cupping my jaw turning my face back to him for more kisses. Greedy ones this time; so less than careful when he allows me to suck on his tongue with a deep throated groan. His other hand cups my breast, his thumb rolling over the nipple, quickly joined with a finger sending sharp spikes of heat over my body a thousand times hotter than the water.

"I care," he repeats while his hand leaves my breast and glides down the wet slope of my stomach, traces the sharper more defined bones of my hips. His mouth leaves mine and cold kisses are smoothed down my neck, over the sensitive curve where my throat flows into my shoulder.

His fingers brush through the thatch of water soaked curls between my legs and I gasp as he groans. A flood of moisture much silkier than the water makes me whimper and burn. His fingers move lower.

"I care," he moans, but I no longer know what those words mean. I only know the sound of his voice and the short sharp growls are taking me just as high as his fingers. I clench my own fingers around his, urging him on and his growl turns to a yes. He lets go of my jaw and takes the other breast, adding more fire so that I begin to pant.

"Please, don't stop." I find his mouth before he can say another word; bite his bottom lip hard as his incredibly wicked fingers work magic over my body, taking me higher and higher and away from all things white and cold and empty and emotionless.

I am spinning out of control. I can't believe it's happening so fast. My legs begin to tremble and I shudder hard against him, so close. So close.

"Edward…" It's like falling and it's thrilling and terrifying all at once, and it's too much...

"Don't fight it, love."

My neck arches against his shoulders, my back arches against his chest; my entire body feels like a bow stretched tight as the pleasure turns so sharp it's almost painful. I need to come and I'm hanging on the cliff, but something holds me back…

"I can't," I sob. "Stop, I can't, Edward."

With a low, deep, guttural growl he suddenly spins me around and lifts me against his body. His eyes burn into mine. "Yes you can. Wrap your legs around me, love."

My back meets the cold tiles but Edward's hand is right there as well, protecting me from the impact, protecting me from the memory of another wall. His eyes don't break away from mine and I sense that he is very aware of what my subconscious might want to dredge up. He banishes the memory with the softest, most gentle kiss, flooding my mouth with the sweetness of his breath and the cool caress of his tongue. His lips are cold and so firm, coaxing and undemanding.

Drawing back he holds me captive with his eyes, the hand not behind my back easily cupping my hip and aligning our bodies. There is no strain to his movements, I might as well be made of air for all the difficulty he has bearing my weight, free from any awkward strain. I feel him, incredibly hard, warmed slightly by water though still cold in contrast, right there, poised against my center. I ache for him and my back arches, my hips surging forward.

"Easy, love." His mouth brushes mine again, drinking in my whimper. "Let me…" Groaning he guides himself to my entrance, shifting his legs to brace our weight. My arms reflexively tighten around his shoulders and my breath leaves my lungs in a rush, beginning to tremble at the first sweet point of pressure. "I don't want to hurt you… I never want to hurt you…"

So many unspoken words ring in the steamy air around us. He swallows hard, his throat flexing and my fingers move to touch him there, wondering if my scent is torturing him, marvelling at the strength he has to be this close to me. Always he pays such a price to love me…

"Don't," he breathes, reading the growing sadness in my eyes that those thoughts engender. "Stay with me. Right here in this moment, Bella." His hips surge gently forward, claiming my body as his, taking away my ability to think.

"Oh." I begin to tremble with that first sweet invasion. He's memorized my body, I'm certain of it. He knows exactly how deep he can go, exactly how far I can take him in. When he pulls back I'm instantly bereft and whimpers spill from my throat at the sweet slow drag that tugs at nerves I'd never known existed. The whimpers turn to soft mewls when he pushes back in, one slow firm sure thrust that has me clenching down around him.

"Yes, sweetheart," he groans, feeling the heated clutch of my body's response. He pushes inside me again slowly, retreats, and mewls turn to moans. "That's it, angel. Let me love you. Let me take care of you."

Just like that I'm back on the edge, hanging on that precipice between pleasure and release, and just like that I stay locked there, unable to tip the scale far enough to let me fall.

Edward surges deeply, hitting all the perfect spots and I ache. He withdraws and the pleasure spikes higher, but it isn't enough. The sob builds in my throat again.

"Edward ungh, oh please. I can't…"

"Yes you can," he growls again.

"No, I…"

Cool fingers wet with warm water touch the corner of my mouth silencing my words as Edward's cold mouth brushes the other corner. The tip of his thumb presses past my lips and my tongue can't resist the taste of his skin. He groans loudly at the sensation and I can feel the vibration beneath the fingers that still lay over his throat.

"You can," he breathes softly, insistently, so I can taste the flavour of the letters in each word. Feel his certainty in the shift of his lips. His tongue touches mine where it rests against the pad of his thumb and I feel suddenly as though tiny warm sparks have exploded in a sweet shower inside my mouth. Gasping and surprised I pull back and watch as he takes the same thumb, now wet from both our mouths and draws it slowly down my body, over the tip of my left breast that suddenly tightens to an aching little nub alive and tingling. Over my stomach that shivers from his touch and the darts of perfect sensation that awakens all the nerves beneath my skin. I'm panting and shaking as he moves it down my lower abdomen, avoiding the streams of warm water slipping down my body from the shower, through the dark soft hair at the apex of my thighs.

That slick digit presses down on the tender nub at my center and the sparks explode deliciously all over me, spreading inside as he moves with that same inexorable sweet slow pace that dictates his movements inside my body as well. Deep and slow, and oh, God, yes.

"I have you, love. Let go."

My legs tighten around his waist and the scale tips sending me plummeting over the edge with his sweet hot praise spilling into my ear. I can't breathe, can't think. I can only feel and cling to him as the pleasure explodes in a dizzying array of colors that eradicate the white like dozens of paint colors falling on a pristine canvas.

**Edward's POV**

Bella is alive and warm in my arms. A perfect flush of soft pink tinges her too pale cheeks, spreads down her neck and across her chest rising with the ebb and flow of her climax. My own body hangs on the edge, desperate to answer the call of hers and it requires tremendous will to deny myself. I focus on her pleasure, drawing it out for her as long as I can before easing her gently back to a more conscious awareness. She trembles sweetly one last time against me and I curl my arms around her, supporting her weight more fully as she loses the strength to do so herself.

"Beautiful girl," I whisper in her ear, praising her as she sighs my name. "I knew you could."

The heat of a sudden blush blazes against me and I smile turning my head to coax her swollen mouth into a soft kiss. A rush of tenderness overtakes me, curbing the physical hunger I've left unsatisfied within my body.

"Don't stop," she whispers making me groan. I cup her face and force her to look at me. She's so exquisite, so lovely it hurts my heart. Possessive emotions tear at me, merging with the physical, urging me to do her bidding and continue to love her. The fading color in her face and the hesitance in her eyes however, urge me to obey my first instincts.

We need to talk and most of all I need to remember how physically fragile she is right now.

"Please."

She's still aching and I'm not surprised. I'd brought her to her release by sheer force, giving her little time to absorb the sensations that would normally have taken her there. Between that and her emotional state manifesting itself in a sharp physical need for comfort and escape, I'm hard pressed to deny her what she pleads for. Especially given the fact that I want it as much, if not more than she does.

Her thigh muscles tremble around my hips with the strain of keeping them locked around me and again the reminder of her current frailty grounds me. I force my body into submission, softening inside of her to make it easier to separate our bodies.

I lower her, carefully keeping one arm locked around her waist so she doesn't tumble to the floor of the tub. Eyes bruised in shadows regard me sadly with a total lack of understanding for why I've ended our lovemaking so abruptly. I read her easily, her previous words once again registering in the forefront of my thoughts.

"I am not angry with you, Bella."

Tears glisten then overspill from those same shadowed eyes, breaking my heart.

"Don't lie. Don't do that."

The adamant words and bite of her tone is caustic. My breath leaves my lungs in a frustrated hiss and a low oath that has her eyes widening in surprise at the vulgarity I so seldom resort to. I want with sudden violence to be able to tear her shield down. To rip it away from her and watch it rinse down the drain at our feet. I want to wallow in her mind and move between the layers of her thoughts until I finally understand this frustrating, beautiful creature who dominates my existence. I stare at her, mentally willing the shield to drop as though I can control a gift she cannot.

The silence mocks me, heavy and oppressive. Too heavy I realize belatedly. The hospital is full of minds that until just moments ago had been a low buzz of background noise in my head. Now I hear nothing and I watch as Bella pales, her features once again taking on the pinched expression of someone in pain. Outside of the bathroom I hear my cell phone begin to ring and I know without needing to answer it that it will be Alice telling me her vision is gone.

"Do you think I don't know what I did?" She asks, her voice turning away from anger and fading into sadness. "Do you think I don't realize what it meant, what it would feel like to you when I asked you to let him live?"

A rush of unwanted emotion fills me. The memory of that moment, when I'd held Jacob Black's life in my hands overwhelming me. The heady feeling of conquest, the thrill of winning, of ripe perfect vengeance being mine and since I stand for her, always for her, hers as well.

"_I would have you safe. I would finish this. Now."_

I'd been ready to kill to keep her safe. To avenge what she'd suffered, I'd been more than ready.

"_No." _

The perfect certainty in her eyes when she'd answered hadn't shocked me. I'd known in many ways what her choice would be, what her conscience would never allow. It was why I'd gone to that clearing in the first place without ever breathing a word of my intentions to her. But her answer had created a new feeling, one I am not proud of, one that isn't rational or right. Yet there it was and here it is again.

Jealousy.

She was mine, in every way that mattered and yet she'd chosen to give him back the life I would gladly have taken away from him. I'd wanted her to be safe and she was willing to be unsafe so he could live.

What the hell do I do with that?


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

**The Ways We Push and Pull**

. . . . . .

"_Do you think I don't know what I did?" She asks, her voice turning away from anger and fading into sadness. "Do you think I don't realize what it meant, what it would feel like to you when I asked you to let him live?"_ Bella Ch. 38

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

Edward's facial expression doesn't change, but it doesn't need to. I am very familiar with the way his mind works, and I don't need his face to create a map to follow the path of his thoughts. I just know him.

My head is aching again, and my legs feel weak and shaky. Fiery points of heat make all my joints feel tender, and even though the shower water is warm, I still feel cold. I know I could tell Edward I'm not feeling well and avoid this whole conversation, at least for now, but I don't want him to know just how unwell I do feel. Not to mention my preferred way to avoid this has obviously been taken off the table. For a moment I play with the idea of trying to see if I can coerce him back into the former mood, but the will to do so is depleted with the last of my energy.

"I didn't do it for him," I whisper, blinking back scalding tears, determined not to break down. "A part of me wanted...what you wanted, what you would have...done." The lump in my throat is agonizing to swallow past. "I'm not proud of that," I tell him fiercely.

"Bella..." His hand reaches for me but I push it away, a feat I couldn't accomplish if he didn't let me. I need him to touch me and yet I need him to understand more.

"When I woke up, when I found out what you were planning to do..." I shake my head, the memory of the terror I'd felt that day is all too easy to remember and feel all over again. I find his eyes with mine and silently plead with him to understand. "I could only think about one thing, Edward. I could only think about _you_."

His mouth opens as though to speak and again I don't need him to, already knowing he's about to refute any worry I might have had for his safety.

"Yes. I was afraid you'd get hurt, or killed," I confirm. The lump tightens, and my words sound choked. "But even more than that, all I could think about was what... killing... him... might do to you." The words are so hard to say, even now with the possibility behind us.

"What it would have done to me." He repeats my words with a cloud of confusion in his eyes.

"Yes," I almost yell, feeling anger bubble to the surface. "You already think you don't have a soul. Did you think I'd let you put one more mark up in defence of that argument? Did you think I'd let you throw away everything you've fought for, you and Carlisle and your entire family, for_ me_?"

Understanding comes to him in a rush and his hands come over the tops of my arms hard enough to make me gasp. "Yes, for you!" He hisses adamantly, his hands gentling almost immediately, moving from my arms to my face. "I would take a million marks against my soul for you, damn it Bella." His voice gentles as much as his hands. "A million and a million more right after, whatever it takes to keep you safe. Whatever it takes to make him pay for what he did to you."

"He is going to pay, Edward. He has to live with what he did, and someday maybe he'll have to face some kind of judgement, I don't know, and I don't care. _He_ doesn't matter, but you do. You don't have to pay for what he did." I try to swallow past the lump and don't really succeed. I fail too in keeping the tears at bay. They slide out of my eyes and over his cold fingers. "Not like that. Not more than you already have."

Again he seems about to argue, and I know he's zeroing in on my last sentence. "Don't," I tell him, hating the tears and the weakness, fighting to put strength I don't really have behind the word. "Don't say you haven't paid. You have. You, and your family, and Charlie. You've all paid this huge price. All because of me, and I..."

"Bella, stop." His eyes blaze at me, full of pain, but he asked for this and the dam has broken. I can't stop the flood of words even if I tried.

Forcing his hands away from my face, I shake my head at him. "No. You know it's true. Let me say it, please."

His hands fall to his sides, and the sadness in his eyes threatens to break my heart. "I did this, Edward. I wasn't strong enough to stand on my own when you left, and I dragged Jacob in. I used him to try to save myself, even when I knew he wanted so much more than I could ever give him. Even when you came back, I held on, and by the time I was strong enough to let him go it was too late. I'd already hurt him..."

Edward's hand is a white blur that streaks past me and smashes into the white tiles behind me. I hear them crack, the sound blending with his snarl. "What he did to you. _Was. Not. Your. Fault_."

"I know that," I cry ignoring the sound of splintered pieces of ceramic clanking against the porcelain tub edge. "I know all of that, Edward. I know he was stronger than me, I know the drugs made him crazy, that his werewolf blood made him volatile, and that he should have listened to me when I said no. But none of that changes what I did, how I acted with him_ before_... I never should have..." I can't finish and dissolve into helpless sobs. When his arms come around me this time I don't push him away. Instead I fall into him and cling hard.

"Now everything is screwed up. The treaty is...falling apart. Leah is dead, Charlie might die, you all have to leave Forks, all because of me."

"Bella." My name is an acute groan filled with frustration and pain. "Don't, love. This isn't your fault, you did nothing wrong..."

"Yes, I did," I wail, shoving away from him again but he won't let go this time.

"What?" Black eyes that show the strain of everything and the proof that it has been way too long since he's hunted glare down at me, penetrating and intent. "What did you do? Lean on a friend when I was too weak and afraid to be what you needed me to be? To believe in us like you believed in us? That is all you did, Bella. He was the one who took the friendship you offered and tried to force you to give him more. He was the one who allowed his Pack to manipulate him and set himself up as a target for a girl whose madness was apparent to everyone. Do you think him so innocent?"

I can only whisper now, so tired I wish I could just curl up somewhere and sleep for a year. "No. I know he's not innocent, Edward. I know what he did. Better than you do, I know what he did, and I hate him for it. I'm half afraid I will always hate him for it and half afraid I won't. I don't know how to forgive him, but I don't know how to live hating him like I do right now. None of that changes anything though."

"What doesn't it change?" he asks, his voice almost pleading as he tries to understand the convoluted mess inside my head.

I can't look at him anymore, so I close my eyes. "It doesn't change the fact that all of this started because I wasn't strong enough to let you go, Edward. I wasn't strong enough to live without you, and now here you are, forced to keep picking up the pieces of my messed up life. My Dad could die, Edward, because I dragged him into a world he should have never known about. Your family may never again be able to have a peaceful relationship with the Wolves; Carlisle has to leave the hospital..." Forcing my eyes back open, I look at him dead in the face and finally ask the one thing I still can't help but wonder.

"How long before you get sick of looking after the human?"

**Edward's POV**

I stand there dumbfounded, and so wrecked by the train of her thoughts and beliefs I cannot find the right words to speak. Her words spill over me, full of her guilt and torment, the darkness that has so long been trying to claim her apparent now in every word.

Darkness that doesn't bear the name Jacob Black as I thought it did.

She spared Jacob's life to protect me. To protect the soul she still believes I have despite all that she's seen of my dark nature. Not for him; not for herself. For me and the salvation she truly believes I am worthy of. As though I could ever hope for a gift greater than her. She is my salvation, and my heaven, and my absolution from my sins. A gift far greater than the promise of life after death or the forgiveness of a God who condemned me decades ago.

Billy Black's words suddenly come back to haunt me here in this moment where my need for revenge is tempered by my stronger need to help Bella heal.

_You'll destroy everything inside of _her_, Edward. Bella cannot live in a world this dark. Search your heart, your mind, your conscience. You know I am right. She needs light the same way she needs air. You will suffocate her in this darkness and this hateful world you are creating._

I've pulled her to me so desperately these last weeks. Anchored her to me in every way I knew how. Hoping to save her from the pain and pull her from an abyss only to smother her in the darkness she was trying so valiantly to fight. Her humanity, her innate goodness and pureness of heart, are things of her nature I treasure beyond any wealth accumulated in my dark existence. And yet I've been willing to sacrifice all of it, to turn her from who she is in order to slake my own desire for vengeance and to guarantee her safety.

What good is safety to one who is as broken and lost as she is now? What good is safety if it doesn't come with peace?

While I've plotted revenge, she's been lost in a search for logic where none exists. While I embraced my anger and hate, she's floundered in self doubt and fear. While we all sought to protect her, she's been desperately trying to protect us.

_How long before you get sick of looking after the human?_

I made decisions for her at a time when she so deeply needed to make them for herself. I asked for all of her, emotionally, physically, and yet I kept a part of myself from her and failed to give her the choice only she had the right to make. Even Rose and Alice saw what I didn't.

Not once through any of this have I treated her as an equal.

_How long before you get sick of looking after the human?_

Her words speak volumes. Always she has seen herself as inferior, as somehow undeserving of me. The mirror of all my own doubts and fears. How foolish we both have been in our beliefs.

My realizations have taken only a few spare seconds, giving me the grace to answer her question quickly before she can fall any further into her fears.

"Never. I will never tire of looking after you, love. Even after your change renders you stronger in body than I am now, I will still be here foolishly trying to look after you."

I see surprise flicker across her tear stained face.

"After?" she whispers, the sound dry and forced over a throat that must ache. Did she doubt the inevitable? Did she believe somehow that my promise to change her had been altered?

"Yes, after." I manage a small smile, one that is rueful and tinged with my regrets for all that I have not understood until now. "I wish I could promise that I would stop being so unfailingly arrogant as to assume I know what is best for you, but we both know I will need you to guide me for many years yet to come." I turn her gently back to the water and begin to wash her. She's exhausted. Drained from the emotions and confessions, and there is so much still I need to tell her. So many overdue reassurances and explanations.

What had begun in a shower weeks ago during our new reach for intimacy continues now so we can tear down the final walls between us, one last time.

I run my soap slick hands over the satiny skin of her back, past the bruises that have finally faded until only my eyesight can find the traces of edges and undefined shapes.

I begin, searching quickly for the words I need to say and the ones she needs to hear.

"I left you. Heartbroken and alone with no one to comfort you. My actions forced you to Jacob."

"No...I."

"Yes, love. Let us share that burden if we must, but you will not bear it alone."

I'd love to linger in all the secret places and curves of her body as the soap skims and covers her. The soft flex of her inner elbow. The delicate arch of her hips. The warm moist curve beneath each breast. I do not. Instead I move steadily, letting my words be the thing that moves her.

"You say you were not strong enough to live without me, and yet I was the one who truly could not exist in a world where you did not. And so I came back, and took you away once again from the human world you were born into."

"My choice," she whispers.

"And mine as well, love. And if that choice created a path that led us here, then again, we share that burden."

She hums something softly, a gentle vibration of acquiescence.

I fill my hand with the lush strawberry scented shampoo she favours and begin to wash her hair, easing, as much as a touch can, the tension and pain in her head. I work my way gently through the heavy waves and strands until my fingers brush against the dip at the base of her spine.

"We've made other choices, Bella. The choice to be husband and wife, and the choice for you to join me in immortality. We knew the sacrifices you would have to make to do so, the sacrifices we'd all have to make. One of them being we would have to leave Forks."

She nods softly as I turn her so I can rinse the suds from her hair. "That is not a burden," I tell her. "It is only a choice we must make in order to start a new life together. In order to leave all of this behind we do it now instead of later, but you're asking none of us to give up anything we haven't had to do hundreds of times before. Do you understand that?"

She nods again as I turn off the water, her eyes still sad. Her expression however is alert, watchful, giving me hope that perhaps we can move past the darkness now.

I wrap her in towels and kiss her softly. "Charlie will live through this, Bella. He's growing stronger every day. Alice sees him clearly now, whenever your shield allows, and nothing changes, nor has it in days."

Once she trusted Alice's visions, but those days no longer exist. She's seen too much and blames herself for blocking Alice, but there is little more I can do than try to make her see that time will change all of that.

"Carlisle believes he will make a full recovery in time."

Something more concrete than a subjective gift has her shoulders easing. She nods.

"Forgive me," I breathe against her damp hair as I pull her to me, needing to hold her. So many things I need her to understand but don't know how to say. How do I tell her I was wrong to decide Jacob's fate on my own? That it was wrong to keep her in the dark and hide any part of myself from her when she gave herself to me without reservation in every way. Yet her arms tighten around me as though she understands them all anyway. Perhaps this one time we don't need to do anymore talking, perhaps it's enough that we know we both feel the awful burdens of blame and confusion.

Maybe, just maybe, the path to the light isn't one you can find in logic and understanding, but in blind faith and the belief in one another.

"Charlie is resting well. Carlisle will stay with him, Esme as well. Jasper and Alice are outside, watching the hospital. Rose and Emmett are close to the house." I murmur to her in a soft litany of reassurances. "Stay with me, Bella," I ask gently. "Stay here with me tonight. The couch pulls out to a bed. The door locks, and no one will disturb us. Let the rest of everything go just for tonight. Let me make love to you. Let me hold you while you sleep."

I feel the sudden tension in her and the hesitation. Somehow I resist the urge to beg. She tilts her head back and looks at me with shadow bruised eyes that flare with a sudden hunger as deep as my own.

She nods.

. . . . . .

**Charlie's POV**

_Damn what a beautiful boat. How long have I wanted this boat? The thick shammy cloth hits the bucket of warm soapy water with a perfect plop, sloshing water across the slightly beat up dock. I swirl it in the tepid water, feeling the sun beat down on my bare back evaporating the light sweat I've worked up._

_I start to whistle as I slap the shammy against the gorgeous fibreglass hull and damn near caress the blue streak that is the only decoration on a perfect white Starcraft Islander 221 IO. A few more minutes and I'll be ready to take her out. Couldn't ask for a more perfect day._

_Sun's got the water all lit up like a smooth bed of sparkling glass. I swear I can see the fish just waiting for me. Beers in the cooler, silver cans all coated in beads of water and surrounded by fat cubes of ice. Thick smoked turkey sandwiches on Bella's fresh baked rye bread sitting on top, all wax-papered and safe in a plastic...what do you call that stuff? Tupperware. That's it. Got a damn cupboard jam packed with the stuff left over from the days Renee used to throw all those stupid parties. Never seen a group of women get so excited over games and stupid cheap prizes, like bright yellow orange peelers..._

_Probably don't want to spend a perfect day like this thinking too much about the ex wife._

_Yeah. This is some boat. I drop the cloth back in the water and survey my handiwork. Took a bit, but it's all good now, shining like it is brand new..._

_Well, it is brand new. Right?_

_I scratch the tip of my nose but the stupid itch stays. Maybe I'm getting sunburnt. Come to think of it, I feel a bit itchy and uncomfortable all over. Shrugging it off, I climb in the boat and head over to check the gear. All my rods are lined up perfectly, metal reels gleaming in the sunlight._

_Sure hope the fish are biting._

_Wonder if I have enough bait..._

"_Going fishing, Charlie?"_

_I don't look up. Don't need to. I know the voice after all. Not sure why but my shoulders come up around my ears, and my eyes focus on my gun sitting right out in the open on my cooler. It isn't like me to bring a gun fishing._

"_What's it to you, Billy."_

"_Just asking. Once upon a time we would have gone together."_

"_Yeah?" I ask with a snort, still not turning around, still staring at the gun. "That right?"_

"_Yeah." He sounds sure about the answer, but not happy. Which is damn good. I don't really want to hear him sound happy. Wonder why that is?_

_I finally straighten out of my crouch and reach out to the cooler. My hand grazes the gun then pushes it to the side so I can open the lid just enough to grab a beer. I pop the tab and turn around, without bothering to offer him one._

_He moves a little farther up the dock closer to the boat and lets out a low whistle of appreciation. He moves damn well for a man who shouldn't be walking._

"_Starcraft Islander." He whistles again a little louder. "Looks just like that one in the magazine you bought last year. Must have set you back a pretty penny. Didn't know cops could afford this kind of luxury, Charlie. Have you been padding the payroll?"_

"_Cut the shit, Billy. What do you want?" The beer is a little warm, but I take a deep pull anyway. Another half hour and they will be a perfect 38 degrees Fahrenheit. I should be out deep in the lake by then._

"_Can't a man come by and say hello to a friend?"_

"_We aren't friends anymore, Billy." The words are out of my mouth before my brain knows I'm going to say them. I should be surprised, but I'm not. The beer leaves a bad taste in my mouth, or maybe it's the words. Either way I put the can down._

"_No. I guess not._

_The sun steals behind some heavy gray looking clouds, and I watch it go impassively. Always nice to have sun, though sometimes the fish bite better when it's overcast. Not that it matters. Something about all of this feels familiar, and I don't think I'm going to be doing any fishing today anyway._

"_You guess not."_

_He looks up and he looks tired. Old. Sad. He shrugs and moves a little closer. I've got an itch in my fingers and it's asking me to pick up the gun._

"_There's a lot not resolved between you and me, Charlie."_

"_Nothing to resolve, Billy."_

"_Maybe yes, maybe no."_

_I haven't moved, but I still know the gun is there, either way, right or wrong, good or bad. It's right there._

"_Forget the gun, Charlie. It isn't going to do you any good here. Just like it wouldn't have done you any good there. Tell me you at least know that now."_

_I regard him for a long minute. Something clicks and buzzes softly, and for a second the warm breeze smells stale and medicinal. I feel a tug on my arm, but nothing is there when I glance down. _

"_Not sure what I know, Billy." My voice sounds raspy and tired. I wonder why I didn't notice before how parched my throat feels._

_Billy shrugs like it doesn't matter, but his eyes are sharp under the brim of his old baseball hat. "Guess that's fair. Lots to process. Thought maybe I'd give you a heads up though."_

"_Yeah? What about?"_

"_Wind changed direction."_

_For a second I find myself gauging the breeze, searching for a change I didn't notice. Nothing is different. Then it hits me. He's speaking riddles and bullshit. Billy's always been good at that._

_The faint niggling of something at the back of mind pushes forward. Another dock, a conversation not nearly as calm as this one._

_Jacob._

_Bella._

_Edward._

"_Wind changed." It isn't a question, though he nods in response anyway._

"_Thought it was going to blow straight through all of us, but it didn't. Sure made a hell of a mess though. Going to be a long time cleaning it all up, picking up the pieces."_

"_I've never liked the riddles, Billy."_

_He nods and turns back to look out over the water that now looks black and menacing. Who knows what's under water like that. Probably not fish._

"_I know."_

"_So why are you here, spouting them off. Haven't we pretty much said all there is to say to one another?" I'd like to sit down; my legs are feeling like someone injected them with novocaine. I don't have any feeling from the knees down. I stay standing._

"_I guess I just wanted you to know, about the wind. It blew some things far away. I didn't want you to think you had to worry about that thing coming back. It isn't going to. You and yours don't need to worry. I made sure of it."_

_Jacob. He's talking about Jacob._

"_I'm probably too tired for this," I say, though I think I'm talking to myself not him. The water, the in and out sun, the gray clouds, the cooler, the fishing rods all lined up in a nice neat row, the perfect dream boat. It all starts to fade, bit by bit. _

_Billy turns to look at me one last time. "Yeah. You should rest, Charlie. But just for a little while."_

"_Feels like I could sleep forever."_

"_You could, but you're not going too."_

"_No?" I want to tell him he has a lot of nerve telling me anything. The words get sucked away, just like all the colors that used to be here._

"_No." He answers, once again looking at me like he can make me see or believe or something. "She's too strong for me to get in, but that doesn't mean she's strong. Not right now anyway. Edward is going to get her past all of this, and she's going to get him past it, but she's going to need you now too. Time to be a father and a cop, Charlie. Time to show her how to let go. Time for all of us to let go."_

_Bella..._

* * *

Something beeps near my head, and if my eyes didn't feel like they were full of hot sand I might want to open them and check it out. I lick my lips instead and wonder who put the same damn hot sand in my mouth.

Something blissfully cool touches my lips and a reflexive pull draws it inside and down my throat. I want to gulp, but it's gone before I can.

"Easy, Charlie. Just a little sip, okay?"

I know the voice. I think. I know the cool taste better. Water. Since when did water taste this sweet? I listen to the voice though, the one I think I know, and I don't gulp. More because I don't want it taken away again than because I understand why I can't.

After a few sips I let go, and think I can hear the cup being put down again. This time I do force my eyes open, and the light damn near sears my retinas right off. I blink about a dozen times before the pain stops and the face looking down at me comes into focus.

Carlisle Cullen. And just like that it all comes back. I know where I am. I know why I'm here. This isn't the first time I've been awake, but it is the first time I've felt like I was.

I'm as weak as a baby, and for a second I wonder if I'm dying. Then a whole lot of sensations start racing in around me and I figure probably not. Dying wouldn't feel like this. This feels more like coming back to life.

"Where's Bella?" My voice is a pathetic rusty croak, but Carlisle seems to understand just fine. He gives me another small sip of water while he answers.

"She's fine."

Not really what I asked, but something inside my chest loosens and let's me relax a bit.

"She's with Edward, downstairs in my office."

I force my eyes back open when I realize they're closed, and study him the best I can when it all still seems so hard to just focus. I don't see anything that tells me he's lying, but it isn't like I can judge someone like him anyway. He's certainly no perp sitting in my interrogation room.

"Office?"

"Yes. She's been here day and night for the last three days." His eyes, those damn strange eyes of his, skip over to the corner where I can see a small cot shoved up against the wall. "She refused to leave your side at first. You've given all of us quite a scare." He picks up a chart and scans it carefully, though something tells me the action is another one of those reflex things he does to appear human. If I was a betting man I'd bet he has the entire thing memorized. He puts it back down and looks at me with a small reassuring smile. Another reflex? I can't tell.

"Why is she in your office?" Paranoia makes me wonder if they knew I was going to wake up and didn't want me to see her. Did she get hurt?

Jesus.

More memories stab through my head. All disjointed and convoluted. I can't make the pieces of each one form anything coherent.

_Billy on a dock. The inside of a cabin, smelling like old fish fry and damp rot. A deed to land._

_Edward, standing by the truck I'd taken from the mechanics. An ambulance._

_My badge in the waste basket in my room. A gun digging coolly into my back._

"Edward took her down so she could have a shower and to hopefully get a bit of sleep. It's quieter there."

It takes me a second to absorb that. It sounds so normal.

"She's okay," he repeats.

"What happened, Carlisle? What the hell happened?"

He sighs, and I think he isn't going to tell me but he does. Slowly, because my head can't absorb it all and I need him to repeat a dozen or more things, he helps me put the pieces in order.

_The heart attack. Edward going after Jacob. Bella stopping him._

_Jesus Christ._

One of the monitors beeps threateningly. Surprisingly Carlisle turns it off.

"Where is Jacob now? Is he still...?"

"_I guess I just wanted you to know, about the wind. It blew some things far away. I didn't want you to think you had to worry about that thing coming back. It isn't going to. You and yours don't need to worry. I made sure of it."_

The dream. Or was it a dream?

"We don't know for certain. It's been three days. His body could technically heal in a short time, but his injuries were extensive. Hard to say how long exactly it would take him to recover."

"Edward let him live." I don't know how to feel about that. Elated? Furious?

"Yes. It was what Bella wanted."

Of course. Bella doesn't have vengeance in her. Not really. And she wouldn't want Edward in that clearing. She would have wanted to protect him, from Jacob, from himself as well I guess.

"You should rest, Charlie. You've sustained some mild heart damage; it's going to take you a bit to get back on your feet."

"How long?" I can't stay like this for long, I'll go crazy. Already the urge to move is nearly unbearable even though I know I'm as weak as a newborn and probably would end up flat on my face if I so much as tried to stand.

"All depends on how cooperative you are." There is the hint of a smile in his voice, and I somehow manage one back. Lots I need to process now, including what he is, what they all are, what Bella plans to be. Most of all what happens now, in the aftermath.

_Time to show her how to let go. Time for all of us to let go._

Last thing I want is to listen to Billy Black, but he may be right, this time.

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

The hospital sounds are faint here in Carlisle's office. I've turned off all the lights except for one small desk lamp that casts a pale gold glow that only barely chases away the deeper shadows. Bella lays beside me on the pull out couch, half tangled in blankets and wrapped around my limbs.

So beautiful. I run my fingers over her cheek, and she turns her head to kiss them softly, her lips kiss swollen and very warm.

For so long I've lived in darkness, believing that was where I belonged.

"You don't," she whispers, and I realize I've spoken the words out loud. Warm fingers brush my forehead, move down to mimic the caress I place on her face. "I love you."

She has seen what I feared the most. She's seen the darkest parts of me now. The places I kept hidden for so long fearing, believing, she could never love me if she knew the monster within. If she understood the things he was capable of.

I was wrong. I doubted her, I doubted her love and how powerful it was.

"Do you still?"

Again I've spoken out loud.

"No."

"Good."

I brush aside the blankets and sheets, needing to be close to her. She holds me as I join our bodies, her eyes never leaving mine.

Molten heat enfolds me. Perfect limbs and satin skin gliding, moulding over my frozen body. She's so tight around me, the velvet clutch of her so much stronger than I ever expected.

"I belong to you," she breathes against my lips, sweet moist breath filling my senses, words so perfect they make me ache in pure carnal heat.

Mine.

"Only you."

Assurances I've needed for so long and didn't know I needed. How I've doubted her, how I've pushed her from me even as I pulled her closer.

She's saved me.

"You've saved me," she replies.

She trembles, a soft oh passing her lips and falling around my ears as I move. The connection between us flares to life, burning away the differences that should matter, perfecting what was already perfect. Warm and cold. Dark and light.

A gentle climax takes her as I cradle her close to me, arch my body to give her everything I can to keep her pleasure peaking.

"I belong to you," I whisper when she comes back to me, tasting the skin on her throat with delicate kisses, skimming back and forth over the place where her heart's blood pulses so hard, like a tiny drum beat against my tongue. The place where soon I will leave a mark that will forever bind her in this life, with me.

"Only you, love."

"Always?" she begs as her body quickens again, pulling me inexorably towards that place where I will join her. That place in the light where we both belong.

I leave the temptation of her throat and claim her lips with mine, greedy kisses coaxing her higher, needing her with me now, as needy and desperate as I am.

Soon she'll be mine in every way. My equal in body as she now is in my heart.

"Always," I tell her, quickening my pace when she arches and pleads in that perfect trio of words that tells me only a second before her body proves it how close she is to bliss.

"Please, please, please."

Not a plea for more. She doesn't need more and neither do I. Nothing about this moment is lacking.

Please, don't stop.

Please, don't change a thing.

Please, feel what I feel.

And I do.

She arches one last time, my name falling from her mouth like a perfect prayer as my hand moves past leather and foam and metal springs that turn to iron dust beneath my clutch. Past wood and more leather to the wall behind as her body clutches at mine, a deep rhythmic pulse...

So good...so good...so good.

Love. Mine. My own.

When I open my eyes, she smiles shyly, sweat dampened hair clinging to her skin that glows beneath me.

"Marry me," I moan softly, the words out before she can blink. "Now. Before we leave Forks. In the meadow. Our meadow."

Her expression softens, eyes so deep I don't think I will ever fully discover their endless depths.

Beside us, on the small table resting on a stack of medical journals, my phone beeps with an incoming text.

Not wanting to lose the connection physically or otherwise, I roll our bodies to the side, pleased with the little gasp that wrenches from Bella's throat and the way she nuzzles my neck with a tiny needy purr.

I flip the phone open and stare at the text, a small smile playing around my lips as I turn it so she can see Alice's name at the top, and a screen full of one capitalized word repeated again and again.

YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES...

Bella smiles, blushing sweetly. She takes the phone and drops it on the floor beside us. Her lips find mine as I once again roll our bodies back to where we were, moaning at the way it feels. I still, brushing her hair softly back from her forehead, trailing my fingers down to her jaw.

"Yes," she answers. Just once.

It's all I need.

. . . . . .


	40. Chapter 40

A/N Finally! A new chapter. :-) My apologies as usual for the slow update. Real life is just not very cooperative in giving me free time to write, but I am determined to finish this story no matter what! Even if it means less sleep. *yawns*

Thanks to Octoberland for the beta work and for getting this back to me so quickly. Don't know what I'd do without you, girl. :)

Also thanks to Lori who leaves me lovely anon reviews that I cannot respond to. I just want you to know how much I appreciate them all. :-) And to all reviewers and readers in general, thank you, thank you.

* * *

Chapter 40 Closing the Divide

5 days after the confrontation

**Charlie's POV**

I wake up to a world of aches and pains, a body I don't recognize, and a tongue coated in the tastes of medicine and drugged sleep. I'm sick of this hospital and this uncomfortable hospital bed, but the joy of being alive is a funny thing. It'll make you forget just about any discomfort, including a catheter which is just about the creepiest damn thing ever done to me. I'm sure as hell happy I wasn't awake when it went in, and I'm just as sorry about the fact I _was_ awake when a nurse took it out last night.

The memory makes me cringe and I hope to hell the plumbing is working right and there is no lasting damage to the pipes, because I'm not playing invalid anymore. One way or another I'm getting out of this bed in the next five minutes and taking care of business like a man. Even if my legs are rubber and it might mean sitting down like a woman to do it. Assessing the wires and tubes that seem to run off in varying directions from my body I frown. This isn't going to be easy.

"Good morning, Charlie."

I glance up to see Edward watching me from the small cot in the corner. His greeting is very quiet and I instantly see why. Bella, her head pillowed in his lap, is fast asleep. Even from here I can see her even, deep breathing and the familiar shape of her relaxed form under the pale green blanket.

"Morning," I mumble in reply, not surprised to hear my voice sounds just like sandpaper grating over gravel. I clear my throat as quietly as I can and reach for the carafe of water by my bed. Edward rises carefully and shifts Bella's head onto a pillow moving to my side to help me, though not before brushing her hair and the side of her face with a touch so tender I feel odd watching it.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks politely, handing me the filled cup.

I shrug. "I've slept better." Forcing some of the water down, I gesture to Bella. "Did she?" I'd spent the better part of yesterday convincing her to take breaks from her seemingly obsessive need to stay at my side, all while watching her with a new and growing fear. I didn't need to be a doctor to tell that something was going on with her. Something more than just the stress of everything that has happened and the toll it might have taken on her.

As if to answer the question herself, Bella shifts and whimpers and Edward turns back to her quickly. He brushes his hand over her hair again and leans down, whispering something I can't quite catch. Whatever it is it seems to soothe her and her breathing evens out once more. He pauses, watching as if to see if whatever he's done and said has had the right effect before he comes back. It hits me then how black his eyes are. Combined with the tight line of his lips and the stiffer line of his jaw, my concern for her ratchets up to a whole new level.

He doesn't bother to answer my question and I don't bother asking it again. I watch him move the IV pole with its bags of unfamiliar liquids and the electronic monitor that displays numbers that mean nothing to me farther away from the bed. Then he lowers the side rail quietly and offers his hand.

"Sit up slowly," he instructs, "and swing your legs to the side of the bed. You might feel a little dizzy, take your time."

I want to tell him I'm fine, push his hand away and get up without any help, salvage some last damn scrap of my pride. I know it isn't going to happen though, already I can feel the muscles in my lower back are shaking and protesting and I've barely started. No, not a lot of pride left for me. I take his hand and try not to cringe at the cold unnatural feel of him, like polished rocks that have been stashed in a snow bank for a week. For his part he seems to pretend not to notice whatever might have slipped by my control and merely helps me sit up, another cold hand briefly touching the side of my leg, guiding them to the floor. He's right about the dizziness and I grit my teeth against it, feeling a light sweat break out on my back and forehead.

"Take your time," he repeats while I puff like a steam engine and battle down a sudden queasy rise of whatever leftover food might still be in my stomach from last night's dinner. Chipped beef and gravy, congealed together with...

"Shit." I swallow about ten times but get it under control thankfully. I've had enough indignities to last a very long time, not to mention enough highlighting of all my weaknesses to last me several life times. I sure as hell don't want to add another one to the mix.

"I'm good," I tell him, trying to shift onto my feet and letting go of his hand. I nearly end up ass over tea kettle and he steadies me with little effort and a light chuckle.

"You have a choice here, Charlie," he tells me with an amused tilt to his mouth. "My help, or Nurse Watson and a bed pan. It's up to you."

Nurse Watson is a formidable woman in her early sixties, built solid like a linebacker and just as tough. The thought of her lifting my arse onto a bed pan is highly unappealing. With a low oath and a grunt I steady myself with a hand on Edward's shoulder.

"Thought you'd see it my way," he says with another disarming grin. The kid really is too good looking for his own good. Though I guess calling him a kid is about as accurate as calling Nurse Watson a girl. I still can't wrap my head around him being technically older than I am.

"Don't be a smartass," I quip lightly with a grin of my own, tacking on an 'old man' in place of young man.

He rolls his eyes as I shuffle awkwardly along with his easy movements. "Like I haven't heard that one before."

It's easier to joke with him than I thought it would be. He's always been unfailingly polite, even when I was less than polite myself and I realize suddenly that I've never bothered to get to know him. With everything that's happened, and now everything I know, I'm not sure if that is even possible.

"It's possible," he says very quietly, surprising me. Technically I know he can get in people's heads, read their minds, but he's never before let me see that. I manage a nod and he leaves the small bathroom to give me some privacy. A slight bit more than Nurse Watson would have given me, I'm sure.

He's waiting patiently when I open the door. Sweating and more than a little shaky I don't even attempt to try to play macho. I'm not getting back to that bed on my own. Least not without ending up on my face on the floor with this stupid hospital gown gaping open and displaying my fish belly white ass to the world.

Edward takes most of my weight, again without seeming to require any effort on his part, and gets me back in the bed without any embarrassing face plants. He watches my face with concern for a moment and I shake my head at him.

"I'm fine, just weak as a damn baby apparently."

"Your body has been through a lot, Charlie. It's going to take a little time to get your strength back." He makes a few quick adjustments to the wires and tubes and offers me more water.

Shaking my head no I watch him place it back on the table and then look back at Bella, still sleeping. My eyes follow his. "Are you going to tell me what's going on with her?" My head finishes the question my mouth can't. _Is this it? Is she changing? Is that why she seems so sick, so weak? _

My heart ratchets up a level. Even though I try to stay calm, my brain won't stop wrestling with the idea that I've somehow gotten trapped in the Twilight Zone.

He turns that black gaze back at me and I'm surprised by the intensity of the look on his face. So many emotions. It's too much to absorb, really.

"No."

"No? No, what? No you're not going to tell me? No she isn't..." I can't do it. Can't say the words, can't really even stand the thought yet, though I'm trying. I hope _he_ knows I'm trying.

Edward's hand clamps lightly down on my shoulders and he leans a little closer, still intent. I feel dizzy and kind of stunned by his close proximity and oddly my heart rate calms down.

"Charlie, stay calm."

I manage a nod and steady my breathing.

After a moment he lets go as though satisfied I'm not about to kick the bucket, and settles into the chair beside the bed. His eyes instantly travel back to Bella and he steeples his fingers beneath his chin. He looks tired, though if I understand correctly his kind doesn't get tired.

"She's not changing, Charlie," he says quietly.

All the muscles in my body seem to go limp. I sink further into the pillows and exhale fully for the first time since I woke up. I know its coming; I know it's inevitable, but not yet. God, please not yet. "Then what's wrong with her?" My tone is gruffer than I want it to be, but he doesn't react. After a long minute he finally turns back to me.

"How much has Carlisle explained to you, about us, about our...talents?"

"Not a lot," I reply. A sense of exhaustion swamps me, one that goes through more than just my body. I have a feeling I need to find some inner core of strength and soon. When Edward leans forward his face forming into a look even more intense and serious, it becomes more than a feeling.

**Edward's POV**

My attention is divided into many different places and I find myself more grateful than normal for the duality of my nature and the capabilities of my mind. The largest part of me is attuned to Bella. The rhythm of her breathing, her heart beat, the aura of her energy, the movements of her body. She had not slept well at all last night and it's unlikely she'll be able to sleep much longer. Already the hospital is in full early morning swing, and I can hear the sounds of clanging trays as the cafeteria staff begins the rounds of bringing breakfast to the patients.

Another part of me monitors her father. Charlie's health is improving, but stress is the last thing he needs. I tune in to the rhythm of his heart and watch him pale while yet another part of me listens to Carlisle's progress on his rounds as he nears Charlie's room. His presence while I reveal the answers to Charlie's questions would be helpful and comforting.

I return to assessing Charlie, wondering as I always do how to balance what he needs to know with what he should know. Perhaps the time for secrets is behind us, but every new facet of information he learns is yet another danger for him. Bella and I had discussed this yesterday, and she'd come to the same weary conclusion as I had. Once again we would allow Charlie to decide how much he wanted to know. Within reason. I look at him and wait.

He watches me, his quiet mind flipping through thoughts and questions, perhaps asking himself the same thing I ask. How much does he want to know? I both hear it in his mind and see it in his expression the very moment he makes his decision. The words follow directly after.

"What's wrong with her, Edward?"

Such a simple question with such a complicated answer.

Carlisle joins us, having already picked up the topic of our discussion from several rooms away. His presence is a comfort, even as he nods at me and clarifies in his thoughts that the choice of how to answer rests with me. He will, as always, support whatever decision I make. He closes the door to ensure we won't be disturbed and joins us, quietly inspecting the small changes in Charlie's condition noted on his chart.

I allow myself a second to watch Bella before answering, letting her quiet sleeping presence ground me. "Not all of our kind has gifts, Charlie. You know mine, and Alice's. Jasper is another. Our theory is that certain traits that may have existed during our human lives somehow become heightened and strengthened by our change into immortality." I turn back to him, studying his face and searching through his thoughts to gauge his understanding. "Perhaps during my human years I had a strong innate ability to understand and read people. When I changed, that ability grew into this telepathy that allows me to read the thoughts of others."

He nods, silently urging me to continue.

"Bella is...unique. I cannot read her mind, at all. Not a thought, not a whisper. She is utterly silent to me."

Charlie wonders at my abilities.

"Your mind is similar to hers in some ways, Charlie." I offer him a weak smile. "Or perhaps I should say she's inherited something from you, for although your mind is not silent to me, neither is it clear. I have encountered quiet minds like your own from time to time, but never have I come across someone as silent as Bella."

His eyes flicker to Bella, then back to me, his confusion making him frown. "So what does that mean? Is there something wrong with her mind?"

Echo's of another conversation flit through my thoughts. Bella startled and concerned, not at my telepathic abilities, but worried at the nature of a mind that could block them.

"No," I answer him quietly. "At least not in the sense you mean."

Carlisle mentally offers his help and I nod, taking the opportunity to rise and move closer to Bella, allowing the slow steady thrum of her heart to lull my ragged nerves. She looks so fragile, so heartbreakingly vulnerable and beautiful in her sleep.

"Charlie," Carlisle begins, laying the chart down, drawing his attention away from Bella and I. "Bella's mind is..." He smiles with the pause, letting his emotions show clearly, his fascination, his love, and his concern. "Unique, for lack of a better word." Warming to a topic that fascinates him he moves to the chair I'd vacated wanting Charlie to feel more at ease if possible and not have the feeling he's being loomed over. "She has a very strong mind and will, and combined with her strong desire for privacy she is capable of doing what no other human has in the near century that Edward has employed his gift. It isn't that her mind cannot be read. It's that she will not allow it to be read."

Charlie's mind grapples with the information, a part of him internally cringing each time Carlisle or I have used the word 'human'. Intellectually he understands that we are no longer that, but emotionally his mind continues to struggle to fit the knowledge into the parameters of reason and sanity.

I give him a moment to absorb as much as he can before continuing, using only his mind now to judge his reactions as I cannot bring myself to look away from Bella. She's beginning to wake, slowly and by degrees as she always does, yet slower and with less ease, weighed down as she is by weakness and fatigue that seem to be growing within her.

"Bella is what is known in our world as a shield, Charlie," I tell him quietly. "She has the ability to not only block me from her mind, but also my sister and my brother and their gifts."

I can see him watching Bella through his mind, searching as though he can find some physical proof. "So Alice can't see her future?" He quickly begins thinking of all the ramifications of this, growing more concerned. Alice herself had taken the time to assure Charlie that Bella would be happy in the future, safe in the future. He wonders now if it had all been a lie.

"No," I answer the question before he can voice it. "Alice told you the truth. Bella shields her mind from Alice only sometimes. Unlike her ability to completely block me out, she has only limited control over her abilities with others. Alice and Jasper included."

He wonders for a moment if he wants to know what Jasper's gift is, then just as quickly decides he does not. His only concern is for Bella. "So this...gift. This...shield, what does it have to do with what is wrong with her right now?" He seems to be directing the question to Carlisle, perhaps an ingrained belief that a physician can somehow provide a sane answer to an insane question.

Carlisle hesitates for only a second, his mind spinning a question into mine. All of it, Edward?

I nod slightly and the action isn't missed by Charlie.

"The trauma of the attack seems to have engaged Bella's gift in a way that never should have happened until after her change, Charlie. It's grown remarkably more powerful and we've discovered that not only can she shield her own mind, but she can also shield others."

"Others." Charlie repeats the word, struggling to grasp these alien concepts.

I fill in the gaps for him quickly, succinctly. "Bella's concern for you and I Charlie, as well as the other members of our family has inadvertently tapped into her power, allowing it to grow and strengthen. When she's upset or stressed or worried, she places that shield over us. The action is involuntary and not under her control."

Charlie rubs his hand over his face and only the slight tremble in his hand belies his stress. Even his thoughts are shaky as they move rapidly from fact to fact, quickly assimilating all he's being told. He misses nothing, including the fact that I have referred to the members of my family as ours and not mine. His intelligence is further highlighted when his conclusion lands directly on the mark.

"So this shield is...making her sick?"

Carlisle's tone when he answers is gentle. "In a fashion, yes. As a human she does not have the strength or the capacity to withstand the power she holds. It is draining her strength and taxing her body to a dangerous extent. I do not understand the physiology, and I've never encountered anything like it before, but if this continues I'm afraid it's only going to continue to weaken her physical state."

There is much we haven't told him, much that falls by the side simply because he knows nothing about it and therefore cannot ask the questions that would require honest answers. He cannot be told about her ability to strengthen the gifts of others. Her power to do so will be coveted to such an extent by the powers of the Volturi that it must be kept secret at all costs. Including this very small one of keeping Charlie in the dark. I shudder to even think of what the revelation of this secret could bring down upon us and what a powerful being like Aro would do to get such a gift and make it his own.

_Is she going to die?_ Charlie cannot bring himself to speak the question out loud. Even the thought turns him pale and shaking.

"No," I answer, not surprised by the ferocity of the hiss that accompanies the word. My fists clench at my side while my eyes fall to the soft rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin blanket.

"Jesus. Oh Jesus Christ." Charlie's soft utterance is not reverential but terrified. His heart rate increases dramatically and I realize too late the violence in the tone of my denial has spoken words for me I did not mean him to understand.

Carlisle rises instantly from his chair and quickly administers medication to sedate Charlie. I join him, forcing my expression into one that is calm and hopefully reassuring.

"She is going to be fine, Charlie. Trust me, I will not allow her to die." My words can be construed in several ways and his thoughts show me that is exactly what he does. He struggles with it for a moment, but the medication and the force of my conviction calm him and he comes slowly to the conclusion that Bella's life, be it human or immortal, is worth more than his superstitious fears.

I watch his eyes close and his breathing slow back to a normal rate while Carlisle keeps a steady hand on his pulse waiting for it to return to normal.

When his eyes open again they seem beyond tired. "I wanted _him_ to pay for what he did to her." Images of Jacob from the night of the attack spin through his mind combined with his regrets and guilt.

I let him see beyond my normal facade. "He did."

"I wanted to..." He struggles to put into words all that he had wanted, allowing his mind to fill in the blanks left by unfound adjectives. He'd wanted to make amends for his mistakes, for the assumptions and beliefs he now sees as ignorant. Most of all he'd wanted to give Bella and I the one thing he could now see mattered most. Each other. Going after Jacob, taking him out of the equation before I did was the only way he'd known how to do that. The fact that he'd been ready and willing to throw away a lifetime of principal and belief and a 25 year career in law and justice to do so spoke volumes his voice never could.

Reaching for his hand I clasp it hard in my own, surprised by the strength he finds to return the clasp with near ferocity. "Listen to me, Charlie." I pause for a moment to make sure the drugs haven't affected him so that he won't be able to understand my words and all their meanings. "I waited a lifetime for Bella. All that she is, all that she holds close in her heart is now all that I hold close in mine. I know what you wanted, but I could no more have allowed you to come to harm than I could my own Father."

His eyes move to watch Carlisle adjust his IV and then move again to Bella. "I wasn't much of a father," he states in a voice so quiet if I wasn't what I was, I wouldn't have heard it. "Even before you and her." His eyes close and I squeeze his hand one last time before he can succumb to the medication and exhaustion.

"She loves you, Charlie, and she needs you."

"What happens now?" he mumbles, forcing his eyes back open to blink at me wearily.

"Now, I need your help."

His attention becomes more engaged. Running a hand over his face he sighs. "Name it."

"This is no place for her now. The Pack has made no moves of aggression and Billy has promised that the treaty will continue to stand. Jacob has vanished."

Something crosses Charlie's eyes at the mention of Billy and Jacob. Animosity and something more I cannot catch. The sedative Carlisle has administered further clouds his thoughts and makes him even harder to read, though I do catch a fleeting thought of a boat and a conversation he's struggling to remember.

"You think they might try something else?" The agitation returns and Carlisle's concerned thoughts caution me that anymore stress could be very dangerous.

"No," I tell him quickly. "If I thought there was any threat to her at this point..." I trail off letting my unspoken words speak for themselves. Charlie nods and once again his body releases some of the tension he holds.

"Still, this is no place for her now. She needs time to heal, away from the darkness of her memories, away from the oppression of all that has happened. I want to take her somewhere safe. A place where she can rest and grow stronger, away from everything that triggers her shielding."

"Let me guess," he comments, a rueful smile devoid of humour accentuating the fatigue in his eyes. "She won't leave because of me."

"She has needed to be here, to be assured of your health and well being. To have taken her away before she received that would have driven her further into an unwell state."

"Can't Alice just tell her I'll be fine?"

"She has. For various reasons Bella is not soothed by Alice's visions. Now that you are stronger, and growing more so each day, I think she's finally coming around." I offer him a smile of reassurance lest his mind wonder about his own future health. Despite Bella's intermittent shielding, Alice has continued to see him strong and capable for many years to come. I'm not surprised when the thought to ask of his future never occurs to him.

"So you need me to tell her it's okay to go?" He shifts, pushing himself more upright, still fighting the sedative. "Wake her up, I'll tell her right now. You guys can get an early start." His thoughts fleetingly touch on how painful it will be to let her go before quickly filling with the relief he feels that she will be surrounded by my family. I decide that now is the time to explain our plans further.

"I do want you to do that, yes. Although if she agrees, we won't leave until tonight." I have already made all the arrangements despite not having Bella's full agreement. I am determined to get her away from Fork's this time. If I could leave now I would, but Bella and I have one last thing to do today. Alice is preparing as we speak.

"Yeah. I guess you'd need time to get ready."

We need no such thing and in fact have been prepared to leave since the day of the confrontation, but I nod anyway. Bella has decided not to tell Charlie about our impromptu wedding, worried at stressing him or leaving him out of what she'd once planned to be a traditional affair complete with him walking her down the aisle. She wants it to be as quiet and peaceful as possible and Alice is doing all she can to make it that, and yet still memorable. I have to control the urge to smile with pleasure at the memory of the things I've already seen in Alice's mind. She really is a force to be reckoned with, somehow managing to corral Jasper and Emmett into doing her bidding without once compromising their first priority. Guarding the hospital.

Charlie's thoughts center on Carlisle as he wonders how he can manage to not compromise his professional life with this sudden leaving.

"Carlisle, Esme, Alice and Jasper will be staying here for now," I answer in reply to his unspoken question. I watch his face carefully, wondering how he will react to my next statement. "They will remain here until you're well enough to travel, Charlie."

"Travel?" He's quick and it only takes him a second to understand. "You want me to go where you're going."

Carlisle intervenes. "Charlie, we discussed before how dangerous it is for you to know what you know. Our kind has only one law and it is enforced without fail and without mercy. You need time to convalesce and until you're well enough we feel it's better if you stay with us until we know you will be safe."

I wait for the normal fearful reactions that should grace this moment; instead Charlie only grunts and shakes his head, his mind full of his usual stubborn thoughts. His life being in grave danger by immortal vampires hardly seems to affect him.

"My life is here, Carlisle. I have a job, and it's a huge responsibility, a house, a...life."

"It's only for now, Charlie. You cannot return to work for at least eight weeks. And that is if you recover quickly."

His stubborn thoughts continue right over Carlisle's words so I intervene, knowing there is only one thing that he will hear and listen to at this point in time. "Bella needs you, Charlie. She needs to know you're looked after, safe. I know it is a lot to ask, but I'm asking anyway."

His curse is soft but no less emphatic for the low volume. Running his hand over his face again he takes in a deep breath. He hesitates only for a second before nodding.

**Bella's POV**

I wake up to the sounds of Carlisle, Edward and Charlie talking quietly. I can't hear them well enough to understand what they're talking about, but the sounds are oddly soothing anyway. The muffled conversations are a sign that all is still fine, nothing new to worry about. I repeat that thought to myself as I push the blankets back and sit up. I'm still trying every day to fight whatever my head is doing with my so called shield. Fear, panic, worry, they all creep up on me and trigger things inside my head outside of my control. Sometimes I catch the mental imagery of doors closing or opening, but they slip away as soon as I try to grasp them or understand them.

"Good morning, love." Edward smiles at me, gently helping to untangle the blanket wrapped around my feet. He brushes a cool kiss against my forehead while I smother a jaw cracking yawn behind my palms. Equally cool fingers lightly touch the skin beneath my eyes while he frowns in a familiar way, letting me know I must look as tired as I feel. "You should sleep more," he comments, though if his tone is any indicator he already realizes the futility of the remark.

"I'm okay," I tell him, turning my face to his hand when his fingers move softly from beneath my eyes to the line of my jaw, pressing soothingly into the popping joint that aches slightly from my yawn. For a moment I half expect him to argue despite the crashing noise right outside the door when someone drops one of the metal tray lids from the breakfast cart. Instead he sighs and offers me his hand to help me up. The sudden movement makes me dizzy and I'm grateful when he steadies me with solid arms around my waist.

"Morning, Bells." Charlie's voice is as scratchy as sandpaper but he looks good. Less pale and more like himself than I've seen in days. Edward releases me so I can move to my usual place beside Charlie's bed.

"Hey, Dad. How are you feeling?"

"Good, kiddo. Real good."

Carlisle is scrawling notes in Charlie's medical chart but he offers me a smile without breaking his rhythm. Finished he pats Charlie's shoulder. "He is doing well, Bella. In fact, he's doing so well that if he wants he can spend some time out of bed and sitting in the chair for awhile this morning. After he eats and rests for a bit that is."

Charlie grunts and I can't help but smile. It's so good to see him finally getting back to normal.

"Well that'll be a treat. A new environment," he replies with only a touch of sarcasm. His eyes then narrow at me. "Speaking of a new environment, Bells. I think it's time you find one as well."

Frowning I shake my head at him, swallowing the touch of panic I feel at what I know is coming. "Dad, I'm staying until you're well. We've been through this."

Edward moves behind me placing an arm around my waist before pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Bella, listen to what your Father has to say, please."

"No."

"Bella, that's enough." Charlie's voice is firm but his eyes are gentle and concerned. "Listen. I'm doing better every day. I'm out of the woods, you know that. Edward has let me know what is going on with you, and he and Carlisle believe you'd do better away from here."

"Dad..."

"Damn it Bella, enough with the stubbornness. You need to think about yourself for once."

"I am," I hiss, feeling a sharp spike of pain across my forehead. Ignoring it I reach for his hand. "I can't leave you like this. When you're better..." The pain spikes higher and this time I can't ignore it. Edward's arm tightens around me with a hiss.

"Bella. It is okay, love. Breathe."

Carlisle comes around the other side of the bed and grasps my chin in his cold hand looking hard in my eyes. "Is she shielding, Edward?"

Edward hisses again. "Yes."

"Bella, everything is fine. We won't push you to leave, you know that. Just take some deep breaths with me, okay?" Carlisle places my hand on his chest and begins to take deep breaths so that I can feel the rise and fall of his chest under my fingers. "Just like this, in and out." Behind him I can see Charlie's face twisted in concern and it just makes me more afraid. I have to get it together. The stress is so dangerous for him and here I am heaping it on by the bucket full. I try to stop, but the pain in my head makes it so hard to focus.

Slowly, bit by bit, I fight off the panic, concentrating on the feeling of breathing until the rise and fall of my chest perfectly matches Carlisle's.

"Bells," Charlie says softly, "this is enough, honey. You need to rest, get away from here, you and Edward both. I'm fine. I'm going to stay fine."

A part of me knows he's right, but it's so hard to let go.

"Bella. I would never lie to you. You know this. Your Father is right, Edward is right. You need rest. You can't get it here. It's only for a few weeks. Esme and I, and Jasper and Alice will be here watching over Charlie."

"Sounds like a good deal to me, Bells," Charlie says with a small laugh. "Four bodyguards for one person."

I know he's trying to lighten the tension and it works a bit. I manage a smile as I imagine how Alice fits the bodyguard roll. Yesterday, Alice had made the decision that her and Jasper would stay. She'd had a vision that had shown my shield would be less engaged by Rose and Emmett's presence for now. I hated that small flash of pain I'd seen in Alice's eyes at the admission, knowing that it hurt her not to be able to help me, even as a part of me was also a bit relieved. Knowing my shield affected her visions so strongly wracked me with guilt constantly. If I wasn't here with her, she'd be able to keep an eye on Charlie better. At least when it came to his heart and his health, and most importantly, with the Volturi.

Pushing my thoughts away from Alice I concentrate back on Charlie. I watch his face, searching like I always do to see if I can see him really getting stronger. He is. Combined with Alice's vow that she sees him only getting stronger every day I wonder if I can do this. If I can really let go and leave him. It's Edward, as always, that helps me make the decision.

Softly he breathes a please in my ear and I twist my head to look up at him. His eyes are black and I can't remember the last time he left me to hunt. His thirst must be unbearable. I need to be there for him now, no matter how afraid I am he needs me to be stronger than this. He's been through hell too.

Biting my lip I look back at Charlie, seeing the worry and concern in his eyes that has to be wearing him down as well. If I leave now, then he can focus on his own health without as much stress.

A thought that has been niggling at the back of my mind for days finally comes to me in full. There is something I have to do before I can leave. Something more than marrying Edward in the meadow.

I need to talk to Billy Black.


	41. Chapter 41

A/N Disclaimer - All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, no copyright infringement intended. Chapter beta'd by Octoberland.

Chapter 41 Forward Movement

**Bella's POV**

It was a typical Forks' day. Varying shades of gray clouds hung low in the sky when Edward and I stepped out of the hospital. Despite the overcast weather I found myself squinting slightly, completely unaccustomed to normal light. I haven't left the hospital in more than 5 days and my retinas protest almost as strongly as my stomach which clenches in anxiety the second my feet leave ceramic and hit concrete. My body language gives me away and Edward's arm tightens slightly around my waist.

"Charlie's going to be fine, Bella."

He's repeated that same line at least a dozen times in the last hour alone. I know he's right. When we'd left, Charlie had been deep in a heated conversation with Carlisle regarding current politicians and looking more like himself than he had since before... I push that train of thought away quickly and focus instead on putting one foot in front of the other.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch Edward scanning the tree line where the hospital grounds end in thick forest, his expression inscrutable. "What is it?" I ask. Something akin to ice water races through my veins as I try to see what he sees, knowing it's impossible even as I do it.

"It's only Jasper, love," he replies, taking my hand and leading me gently but forcibly towards the parking lot. I continue to look but my human eyes and ears can't decipher any sign of him. Edward had told me days ago that the hospital was never left unguarded. The suffocating weight of responsibility descends over me as I realize once again how much they've all had to sacrifice for what happened.

Edward raises my hand to his lips placing a soft kiss on the back of my hand. Black eyes regard me warmly and resolutely and with a level of understanding that still surprises me. "He's happy to do it, Bella." He smiles and the crooked edge to his lips does more to ease my state of mind than his words. "I'm being instructed to tell you he's even happier to have the opportunity granted upon him by the state of Washington to officiate our wedding." The smirk turns into a full blown smile that makes my normally clumsy feet even more uncoordinated. I stumble and he catches me with a practiced ease that might be an embarrassing reminder of my faults if I wasn't still trying to digest what he's just disclosed.

"Jasper is marrying us?" My brain scrambles with a dozen thoughts all tripping over each other in perfect imitation of my feet. How? Why?

"Yes. I hope that's okay. It would be difficult to get a Justice of the Peace out to the meadow under the circumstances." We've reached the car and Edward opens the passenger door for me the smile now tempered with a slightly worried look to his eyes. Cool fingers brush the skin on my cheek keeping me from looking away. I suddenly realize how absent from life I've been.

"I'm sorry," I blurt, feeling the ever present tears prickle at the corners of my eyes. I seem to have so little control over my emotions as of late. Battling them away I blink rapidly while his smile fades and concern takes over as the dominant expression on his face.

"Bella, you have nothing to apologize for."

I manage a watery smile and shake my head at his quick assurance. "Yes, I do. I've been...so caught up in my own head that I haven't even helped with any of this. I haven't even asked about it. I just left it all to you and Alice."

Smiling again it's his turn to shake his head at me. "Alice is in her element, love. She's hardly required any input."

"Please tell me she hasn't gone crazy, Edward." Sudden realization at Alice's industriousness has me visualizing all kinds of insane scenarios for how this wedding might play out. Being limited to a small meadow hidden deep in the woods with no road or even clear path to get there might be a hindrance to some, but never to Alice.

Edward's ever changing emotions seem as unable to settle as my own. Once again he looks sad. "She hasn't," he murmurs.

"What is it?" I whisper, searching his eyes trying to understand this new look on his face and in his eyes.

Sighing he holds the door open wider, his eyes once again scanning our surroundings. I'm only just noticing how watchful he's become, how his gaze searches every corner and how aware he is of everything around him. Gently he ushers me into the car obviously uncomfortable with us standing out in the open. He waits until we leave the parking lot to answer.

Reaching for my hand, he breathes in deeply. "Am I rushing you to this, Bella?" His eyes meet mine briefly before returning to the road.

Squeezing his hand in mine I feel a sudden elation at finally being able to be the one to reassure him for a change. "No. I want to be your wife, Edward. I don't care how, or where. If Alice has gone crazy and turned the meadow into a three ring circus and is forcing Jasper into a lion tamer costume to marry us, I still don't care. I just want to be yours." Swallowing past the new lump in my throat I turn to look out my window. The world flits by in all its normality, everything the same as it always has been. Only I'm different. "I _need_ to be yours, Edward," I tell him. My voice is barely above a whisper though I hardly need to worry about that with Edward.

He's quiet for a moment and finally I turn back to him. His smile is soft, tempered with everything we've been through, yet so full of love it takes my breath away.

"And I you, love. Forever."

We spend the rest of the drive in silence not even speaking when I notice Emmett's jeep pull in behind us. Or when Esme's car suddenly appears in front of us. Our very own cavalcade, guiding us, guarding us, following us all the way to the house. I'd be paranoid about why they are doing this if I wasn't so exhausted. That and the fact that Edward has assured me over and over again that the Pack has been quiet, remaining on Reservation land. I know this is only a precaution. Proof that never again will Edward take my safety for granted.

At the house Esme instantly turns around and after a brief fierce hug to both Edward and I, heads back out. Edward explains she's going back to the hospital so Jasper can leave while Emmett bounds out of the Jeep with a huge grin.

"Hey, Bella baby. How are you?" Despite the grin his eyes show concern and they rake over me. For a second his arms move as though he's going to embrace me but just as quickly he changes his mind and places one hand on the side of my face instead. "Good to have you home, little miss bride to be."

I let go of a breath I hadn't known I was holding and give him a smile as he takes a step back. I feel bad I can't hug him, can't give him something in return for his welcome, but already I feel crowded and tense. Taking my bag from the back seat he grins again and bounds into the house. I can't help but smile a little at his retreating back. Nothing gets Emmett down for long.

Edward's strong cool arms surround me and he guides me into the house. Everything looks the same, comfortingly familiar and yet oddly discomfiting. So much has changed. So much has happened that it doesn't seem right that everything should still be perfect and ordered and neat. I keep half expecting things to resemble how I feel.

Pushing all of that aside I turn to focus my attention on Edward, my grounding force. "So? What's on the itinerary for the day? Did Alice post it on the fridge?" The attempt at a joke is lame at best yet Edward chuckles anyway.

"First on the list is to feed the human," he replies, tapping my nose gently.

I'm not at all hungry but I don't argue as he takes my hand and gently tugs me to the kitchen. He opens the fridge and frowns at the contents that still confuse him, his nose wrinkling slightly at some smell he finds unappealing.

Sliding in front of him I remove a few items to fix a quick salad and begin the familiar movements of food preparation. Edward leans against the counter to watch me, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at his ankles. His eyes are very dark clearly showing the human isn't the only one who needs to be fed.

"Alice is putting some final touches on the meadow," he tells me with a small smile. "She's going to call later, but you have plenty of time to rest before."

The image of Edward's large bed is suddenly very clear in my mind and I almost moan at the thought. The feeling of exhaustion is growing by the second and I suddenly want nothing more than a scalding hot shower and clean sheets. In order to hide just how desperately tired I am I nibble on a carrot and question him about Jasper's new Justice of the Peace status. He informs me that Jasper had gone online a few months ago and completed the necessary paper work and forms, becoming official in a matter of days. That his decision seems almost prophetic now is not lost on either of us though we skirt around that topic completely.

"Carlisle is going to stay with Charlie, and Rose will be outside the hospital grounds as well."

I look up at him in dismay the bite of salad clogging my throat and sliding down to land in my stomach like a rock. "I never even thought..."

He's at my side in an instant holding up the glass of water I'd poured as I cough raggedly. That my mind is so scrambled and dysfunctional that it had never occurred to me to worry about who can and cannot attend my own wedding shocks me.

"But Carlisle...he..." I search Edward's eyes, suddenly and overwhelmingly sad. Rose not attending is sad enough, but for Carlisle not to be there... "He's your Father, he should be there; he'd want to be there..."

"Bella." His hands are cool and solid on my shoulders. "Its fine, love. Besides, it seems only fair. If Charlie can't be there..."

"No, that _isn't_ fair, Edward. This is just...wrong."

"Bella," he repeats firmly. "Listen to me. I want to be your husband," he tells me in perfect mimicry of my earlier statement to him. "I _need_ to be your husband. Nothing else matters. Not where we get married, not who marries us or how, or even who is there. We will have an eternity together, you and I, and decades to re-do this as often and however we want if we choose."

I grimace with faked horror and he laughs lightly for a moment before pulling me into his arms. My heart hurts and I bury my face in his cool, solid chest with a shaky sigh. I know he needs this. I know_ I_ need this. Like everything lately, it isn't perfect. It isn't what we'd planned or how we imagined, but all the details seem suddenly unimportant. All that matters now is us, solidifying this bond and leaving everything else behind. Jacob, the attack, the confrontation, Forks and all its good and bad memories. All of it.

"You're all that I'm asking for, Bella," he murmurs in my hair.

"Okay," I tell him quietly and his arms surround me tighter, holding me safe and anchored and complete.

**. . . . . .**

Sitting on the end of the bed I watch Edward cross the room and kneel on the floor in front of me. His expression is intense as he hands me a glass of water and the assortment of pills Carlisle has been giving me to control my blood pressure and give me some respite from the constant headache that throbs in time with my heartbeat. I swallow them without comment, and he takes the glass from me when I'm through, placing his cool hands on my thighs just under the edges of the t-shirt I'd taken from his drawer.

"I like you in my clothes," he says with a small smile. His hands move farther up brushing the leg bands of my panties and making me shiver. I wonder if he wants to make love. As tired as I am I won't refuse him, I need him as much, if not more, as he needs me. As though he reads my mind his eyes meet mine and the electricity between us grows quickly.

"I want you," he tells me, his gaze drifting from my eyes to my mouth, watching intently as I lick my lips to moisten them in preparation for his kiss. Yet instead of kissing me he moves back with a sigh tugging the shirt back down over my thighs. Rising to his feet he pulls the covers back and indicates that he wants me under them. When I comply he tucks me in like a small child and leans down to place a chaste kiss on my forehead before sitting beside me and running one cool finger over the lips he's neglecting.

"I need to hunt, Bella." He must see some expression cross my face and he instantly misinterprets it for fear. "I'm sorry. I don't want to leave you, not even for a second but I've left it too long and..." A rueful smile turns the corners of his mouth up without any humour ever reaching his eyes. His look speaks for itself. He's discovered he has more control than he'd ever imagined but he's not willing to chance my safety when his thirst is so strong. "I will be back before you awaken, I promise, an hour no more."

Pressing my fingers against his mouth I stifle the rest of his words needing to reassure him. "Edward, I'll be fine, you..."

Catching my fingers firmly he kisses my palm, his eyes closing as his words rush out over top of mine, cutting off my assurances. "Emmett is here and Jasper is right outside watching the house. Rose and Alice are close enough to be here in minutes..." The reassurances seem more for him than me.

"Edward. Stop. I'll be fine." I use the fingers of the hand he isn't holding to touch his face, run my thumb under the dark purple shadows so prominent beneath his eyes. He must be in such pain. I try to remember the last time he left me and can't. "No one's getting past Emmett," I say with a small grin.

From the door Emmett seconds my words. "Damn right." Leaning against the jam he grins back at me and crosses his arms with a wink before turning a scowl on Edward. "So brother, are you going or am I tossing you out the window?"

"Go," I whisper to Edward, sitting up to briefly press a quick but full kiss on his lips before pushing his chest with my hand. I might as well be pushing on a cement wall but after a moment he relents and allows the pressure to move him back before he rises. He hesitates again as soon as his feet take a step from the bed. Trying to make it easier for him I close my eyes as though I am already falling asleep. I hear him breathe out harshly in a sound that matches the syllables of a curse and then once again his lips are at my temple, his cool breath rushing over me with his words.

"An hour, no more, I promise. Sleep, love."

I don't respond not trusting myself or my voice not to show how much it hurts to have him leave, how insecure I suddenly feel. I need him to go nearly as much as he needs to go and I can't do anything to jeopardize him or what I'm hoping to accomplish.

I don't know how long I lay there listening to the silence with my eyes closed. Surely only a few minutes, ten at the most, though it feels like hours. When I open my grainy burning eyes the room is empty, the door closed. I turn over and try to empty my mind so tired I feel disconnected. The silence blares in my ear and the emptiness of the room pushes down on top of me like a physical weight. I can feel my heart beating faster as the incipient panic comes to tug at my psyche. Pushing it away I try instead to focus on what I need to do, but the fear is rapidly winning.

Making a decision I shove the blankets away and jump out of bed, not surprised when the room seems to spin around me. The pills are beginning to work and I'm more certain than ever that one or more of them must contain a sedative of some kind. I find a pair of sweat pants in the drawer and drag them on quickly not even caring how I look.

I find Emmett in the living room, a game controller in his hand. The TV is on mute and his attention seems to be in several places at once when he looks up at me.

"Hey, shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I can't. Can I just...stay here with you?"

"Yeah, of course," he answers, beginning to stand. I move quickly before he can get fully to his feet and lay on the couch beside him shivering slightly in the cool air wishing I would have thought to bring a blanket. Emmett instantly produces one from somewhere I don't notice and covers me with a gentleness that goes against his size and strength. The panic and pressure in my chest ease a little with his close proximity. He watches me for a second before sitting back down and resuming his game. The bright colors and soundless energy on the TV blur under my vision.

With nothing but the soft ticking sounds of the game controller buttons responding to Emmett's actions, I close my eyes and reach for sleep. It eludes me and leaves me hovering somewhere in a frustrating in between place. I'm too conscious of the ticking clock and the weight in my chest. I shift uneasily and the panic rises again making my heart knock and hammer under my chest bones. Fine tremors make my skin crawl as though hundreds of ants are marching over my limbs, tickling in the creases and crevasses of every joint. I'm seconds away from a full scale panic attack and I know it but am helpless to stop it. Beside me I feel Emmett shift and a new clicking sound has my eyes flying open to see the cell phone in his hands.

"Don't, Emmett," I hiss as helpless tears slip out of the corners of my eyes. "Don't call him, I'm fine..."

"Like hell you are, Bella. Your heart is damn near pounding out of your chest."

"He needs to feed, Emmett. You know he does."

"Shit," Emmett curses, slamming shut the phone. I'm not sure if it was my words or the fact that my heart had started pounding even harder that made him change his mind. Either way I sink back on the couch gratefully and try to calm myself, hating this, hating what I've become. The tears burn tracks down my cheeks and Emmett is suddenly cursing again. Before I can comprehend what he's doing I'm suddenly turned around with my head on one of the couch pillows on his lap. One of his arms comes over my shoulders and he holds his hand out.

"Take it, Bella." It's an order not a request and I find myself complying without thought. "Good girl," he mutters using his other arm to take my other hand. He guides it to his bicep wrapping my fingers around it. "Feel that?" he asks, and I can hear the grin in his words though I sense it is forced. The steel beneath my fingers has no comparison to human muscle. Like Edward he's cold to the touch and beyond solid, yet unlike Edward whose strength is lean and ripcord fierce, Emmett feels like a tank. Like heavy thick bars of steel are enclosing me. The feeling is oddly bracing and comforting.

"Nothing is getting through this, little sister. Ever. Not no way, not no how. As long as I'm here I swear to you, I will never let anyone ever hurt you again." There is a strain in his voice I've never heard before and when I open my eyes I see how intense he looks, how protective. The pressure in my chest eases slowly but surely. Forcing a smile he looks back at me calmly attempting to joke. "That goes for Edward too. If he ever pisses you off just tell me, I'll kick his ass for you."

My eyes close and I take a deep breath focusing on the feeling of filling my lungs with air and the sensation of Emmett's arms around me, freezing cold and heavy as hell but comforting none the less. After a while I can feel sleep reaching out for me. Just before it takes me under I whisper a small plea to Emmett.

"Whatever I say or do don't wake me up, Emmett. And don't let go, okay? Please don't let go."

**. . . . . .**

_The beach is exactly as I remember it. Pristine white sand stretching out for miles. Teal blue water lapping at the edges, creating a band of definition where dark and wet sand feathers into the dry white. I can feel the individual crystals beneath my bare feet while a warm sun bathes my skin in light and heat. Palm fronds rustle and whisper in the soft breeze. I can smell the salt of the ocean and the lushness of something green and tropical mingling with the smell of strawberry shampoo when the wind brushes my hair against my face._

_I settle down on the sand curling my legs beneath me, resting my bottom on my heels to wait. In my mind I search for doors praying I can find the right one. They all look the same, endless rows of them confusing me and mocking my weak human mind that can't understand how this all works. Finally I find one that seems familiar. My fingers trace the grooves of a circle charred into the wood and marring the otherwise flawless surface._

_Billy._

_Closing my eyes on the beach and in my mind I push the door open and call his name quietly. I hope he'll come._

_I tilt my head up to the sun letting the rays melt the surface of my soul while I wait._

_And then I am not alone._

_Once again dream Billy is strong and young. On his feet near the water's edge, his back to me, long flowing hair blowing in the wind. For a second he reminds me so much of his son. Of the Jacob I used to know and love. The one who used to be my best friend and the only reason I had to live._

"_You came." I draw my knees up and hug them, watching him warily._

"_Of course," he answers, still not turning around. "I'm not your enemy, Bella. I would have come sooner if you would have let me in..."_

"_I can't control that," I lie. His small laugh tells me he understands. "Not entirely," I amend, wondering why I'm explaining anything at all to him. The memory of purposely locking him out is clear but the actions I'd taken to do it are not._

"_Your mind is very powerful, Bella. I've never found one more so. Your powers are stronger than you are though." He sighs and finally turns around to face me. His eyes are dark and sad in his young strong face. No colors today, just black and bottomless. More man than Shaman. "At least for now." His turn to amend his words._

"_I'm tired, Billy." I feel the ever present tears prickle my eyes and blink them back furiously focusing on the incoming tide and not him. "I'm so tired. I don't know how much longer I can do this. My head wants to explode and I can't focus, can't keep all the pieces together." The honesty is hard, but vital to what I will ask of him now. Despite everything that's happened I trust him. More than that, I need him. _

"_I know." His answer holds a thousand unspoken understandings. He does know. He's tired too._

"_Where is he?" I whisper, the question trying to stick in my throat and choke me even as I force it out._

"_Gone," he replies quietly. "Running. Away from us, away from himself. He's separated from the Pack, fully engaged in his wolf form. I doubt he'll ever come out again, Bella."_

_I can see that. What he explains. Jacob in his wolf form, running far and fast, trying to escape what he's done, who he became. I wonder if he finds solace in being wild. A surprising part of me hopes he does. The light side. The side that knows my future is no longer wrapped in any way with his. The side that knows it must let go of everything that is behind me and move forward._

"_What happens to the Pack now?" The real question hides just under the surface. What happens to the Pack if Jacob comes back? Billy hears both as I knew he would._

"_Sam will continue to lead, for now, though I suspect soon enough he'll choose to walk away so he can grow old with Emily, with his children and grandchildren." Squatting down he scoops up sand in his palm and lets it fall, the wind blowing the sand particles in a soft arc of white like a waterfall complete with mist. "Paul is next in line, the most competent in some ways to guide the Pack."_

_I don't miss the words 'in some ways' and shudder as I think of Paul and his angry eyes. His wolf form in the woods the day of the confrontation is burned in my mind. He'd been the closest to Edward and Jacob, his body hunched and ready to spring. Even as far away from me as he had been I'd felt and seen where his loyalties lie. _

_Billy continues, perhaps trying to soothe me. "Once an Alpha separates from his Pack, there is no going back. The decision is irrevocable."_

_I sit silent for awhile digesting what he's telling me. Jacob has no reason to come back. No desire, no ties. The sun no longer feels soothing, the breeze no longer feels warm. I shiver with the images of a lone wolf racing through thick dark forests._

_Better for him. Better for all of us. The thought carries the timbre of Billy's voice so I force myself to focus back on him._

"_What will you do now, Billy?" Again so many meanings and again his smile tells me hears them all. _

"_Try to put our people back together. The tribe is scattered, torn and divided. I need to be a true leader now and help them heal before our ways are lost forever. I suppose that is why I didn't die when I offered my soul for your father's. This is my destiny, what I was meant to do all along but chose to ignore."_

"_You blame yourself." It's not a question. I can see it in his eyes._

"_I was a weak man, Bella. A weak man is no kind of father." His pain is so raw it blisters the air around us, sets it to shimmer like heat waves in a desert. _

"_He made his own choices, Billy." It's the only comfort I can offer him. Perhaps the only one I can offer myself as well._

_Hesitating to reply Billy lifts more sand and pours it into a cupped palm watching as the water swallows it down. _

"_Nothing is ever that simple, little dreamer. You know that."_

_I do. So many choices, so many paths taken that had led us here. His, mine, Edward's, Jacob's, the Pack's, the Elder's, Leah's, the Cullen's. I can see now all the individual threads, like the sand that spills from Billy's hand, gathering, overflowing, and finally spilling into the water. Each grain overlapping, tumbling against each other until they have nowhere to go but down. Just like the actions that brought us here._

_The beginning is simple. A near century ago the Cullens moved to town and so it began. Then decades of unlikely peace disintegrated before everyone's eyes when three worlds collided. Werewolves. Vampires. Humans. So simple and yet so complicated. _

"_I have to leave," I tell him, holding his eyes with my own, hard and intent as I try to peel back the layers of who he is. The Shaman versus the Father, versus the Elder, versus the man._

"_Yes." He smiles softly, the sadness making him appear stronger not weaker._

"_Charlie won't." At least not for long. I know my Father. Out of guilt and obligation and love he'll join us in Alaska but he'll never stay. His life is here, in Forks. He gave up a marriage for it, a child once. I'm not naive enough to believe that this time will be different. It is who Charlie is._

_Billy's smile fades but he nods. "No I can't imagine he would."_

"_I need to know he's safe. That he'll stay safe."_

_The sadness in Billy's eyes grows immensely. "He is. He will." His words are gruff, full of promise and shame and rebuffing scorn. As though it hurts him that I would think otherwise._

"_Promise me!" I rise to my feet in the wet sand and move to stand in front of him. The wind whips up and the sun vanishes behind thick dark clouds as my anger mounts. "Vow it! Swear it! Write it in blood for me or I won't leave, Billy Black. I'll stay. He'll stay!" I let the threat hang in the air knowing he's remembering Edward in the woods tearing Jacob apart slowly, piece by piece by bloody piece. A dark volatile force crashing down around him and everything he loves. Knowing that he understands when I say I will stay it won't be as I am now. Weak and human and helpless, but as Edward's equal._

"_You don't need to threaten, Bella. Charlie will be safe. This is his home. It will always be his home." Even in the face of my anger he stays calm._

_I take a step back from him, surprised at how much anger I still feel, still hold inside like a festering wound. "And if Sam steps down and Paul takes over? What promise can you give me that he won't want revenge?"_

"_It isn't like that, Bella. When Jac..." The sudden fire in my eyes makes him swallow the name he'd been about to say. Edward forbade Jacob from ever again speaking my name, in return for that, out of respect for that; I never want to hear his. "He revealed everything in his mind. They all saw it, felt it. Even without true memory the Pack understood once and for all what he'd done. The truth was a brutality on their minds. Paul included. Paul would lay his life down for the Pack, whether those members are worthy or not, that is his nature. But he would never seek to harm Charlie, or you, Bella. Even the Cullens are safe. He sees the debt my son owed as paid and only wants to move on from here. They all just want to move on from here."_

_I nod and turn to look out over the water. The wind continues to blow, a direct result of my turbulent emotions. I make no effort to calm them. Yet._

"_I need more," I tell him in a hoarse whisper. "It isn't enough to protect Charlie from you. There are...others who could harm him. Others who only I can claim responsibility for. There are...forces...that will not be happy with Charlie knowing what he knows."_

"_Others. Meaning other cold ones." _

"_Yes."_

_Billy nods and his hands lift as though he's going to reach for mine. I take a quick step back out of his reach._

"_Yes. If the secret of what he knows gets out, they could...they will come looking for him."_

_Nodding again he rises fluidly and easily to his feet. "The Pack will react instinctively to any threat. It isn't necessary for you to ask for anything. Charlie will be under our protection as would anyone in any proximity to us."_

_Shaking my head I step closer again, warning him with my eyes not to try to touch me. "I am asking anyway. I want you to promise me that Charlie will be under your protection. I want you to ensure the Pack watches him always and never becomes complacent no matter how many years pass. I want you to look at me and tell me I can trust you." _

_I let him see me then. Really see me. Not the dream Bella in the soft white cotton sundress, not the Bella I remember, simple, pretty yet plain, but the Bella I am now. Scarred and broken and afraid and sick and uncertain. The me that isn't at all sure I'm going to get my happy ending with Edward, or a chance to look out for my Father myself. Even here in the inner workings of my mind and subconscious I can feel the pain in my head and the ever growing weakness in my body. And I know now the way I'd never known it before, nothing is ever simple. Not love and certainly not change. A year ago I would have sworn it was, but I know better now._

_For every choice, every decision there is a price that has to be paid. Some we see and some we do not._

_Billy reaches down into the water and picks up a small stone with a broken edge. The sea has not yet smoothed the jagged line into dullness. With one sharp pull Billy slices the stone across his palm and I watch sickeningly as the blood wells to the surface and overflows sending bright red droplets to splash in the surf. _

_For the first time since I fell asleep I actually feel as though I truly am dreaming. Numb and disconnected I find myself holding out my hand to him and watching as though from a distance as he presses the stone to my flesh. The sting is brief and then my blood wells to the surface as well, thick and red and pungent with the smell of iron and salt. Nausea tickles the back of my throat but I push the feeling away as Billy presses his palm suddenly to mine. The hot slick feel of our combined blood coats our palms and fingers, the mixed droplets dripping together now into the water._

"_Now you are blood of my blood," Billy murmurs while holding my gaze, suddenly more Shaman than man. He squeezes harder. "This bond I make, this pledge I swear to you, daughter of dreams. For now and always, you and yours are under the protection of the Quileute Pack. As an Elder I decree it. As a Shaman I sanctify this vow. Let the treaty be amended one last time so that we may all live in peace from this day forward." Releasing my hand he steps back and the dream spell breaks, freeing me from that strange other state. "You have my promise, Bella. My vow, my sworn word, my blood oath that Charlie will be safe and protected here in Forks for as long as he lives." _

"_Thank you," I whisper, curling my fingers over my still blood wet palm and watching as he begins to fade until I'm once again alone on a pristine beach. The wind dies down and the sun shines brighter than ever bringing warmth to my skin that matches the new warm peaceful feeling in my heart._

**Edward's POV**

Dropping the final carcass into the shallow grave I've dug out to hide the evidence of a thirst left too long unsatisfied, I waste no time covering my tracks and heading for home. This close to hunting season concessions must be made in how I'd normally dispose of the leftovers of my meal, especially given how six bloodless deer would attract attention anywhere, never mind this close to the town. That I'd been less than neat in the frenzy of my need meant more time spent in clean up than I would have liked.

The feeling of strength once again saturating my being however is welcome and it gives me more speed to make it home faster.

I smell the blood before I even see the house. Bella's blood. Bella's spilled blood. Terror lends a new speed to my stride.

_She's fine, Edward. She's okay._

Jasper's thoughts hit me before I see him standing just at the edge of our property line. He holds up his hand to slow me. He's surprisingly calm given his issues with control and that more than his words slows me enough to see his mental images of Bella sleeping on the couch safe and whole with Emmett.

I step into the house aware now that the fear is dissipating that the scent of Bella's blood is very weak. My throat burns as it always does but I no longer fear my instincts. Not even the glorious smell of her spilled blood will break the iron hold of control I rule over my nature now. Not now, not ever again.

My only concern is Emmett. Emmett who has his arms around Bella's sleeping form as though he's formed a cage. Emmett who glares at me with dark dangerous eyes when I enter the room. Emmett whose thoughts are completely shut off to me. For a second I believe blood lust has him in its grip but it comes to me at the same time his lips curl back over his teeth that his expression is all wrong. It stops me in my tracks.

"Not a good idea to get to close to me right now, Edward."

Emmett's actions and body language are not ones of thirst, they are protective. Fiercely so. He's always been protective in nature. Of Rose especially, but all of us in general. Not even his instincts to protect his mate however match the emotion I can read in his eyes right now. If I try to move her away from him he's going to rip me to shreds and leave me in a pile of pieces that will take hours to put back together. I know it for a fact mind reading be damned.

"Emmett, what are you doing?" A new fear grips me as I see his arms flex slightly as though he's about to tighten his grip on her. I keep my voice low on a level only our hearing can detect afraid of what might happen if Bella wakes and tries to move away from him.

He shakes his head at me as though he's not entirely certain himself. "Shit, Edward, just, just stay there, okay?"

"Emmett, don't tighten your hold on her..." Jasper enters quietly and I quickly scan his mind to make sure he's okay with the smell of blood which is slightly stronger now that I'm closer to its source. He's not breathing though I sense it isn't necessary. His thirst is well under control having undergone his own metamorphosis into immunity after the night of the attack when he'd carried Bella out to the car. Seeing her so hurt, so vulnerable and damaged in his arms had further solidified his already iron will that he would never harm her again. His thoughts are still clear to me indicating Bella is only shielding Emmett and herself.

Emmett shakes his head at both of us. "I'm not going to hurt her Edward, trust me on that. And Jasper you can quit trying to reach me with the mojo. I'm pretty sure her shield is up and I'm under it."

"It is. You are." I confirm his words still wary and rooted to the spot I stand in out of fear for Bella.

"Yeah. Thought so. You can kind of feel it if you concentrate hard enough," he breathes out, seeming to relax slightly when I don't move any closer. One of Bella's tiny hands is wrapped around his upper arm shockingly fragile looking against the width of his distended muscle. With incredible gentleness Emmett uses his free hand to smooth her hair from her face. Visions of her skull shattering beneath the pressure I know he's more than capable of placing has me moving forward. Again he growls low but vicious and again I'm forced to stop.

"Give her to me," I growl back, my own anger beginning to mount. "If you harm her, Emmett, I will kill you..."

Jasper takes my shoulder holding me back tightly. "Easy, Edward."

Emmett is still baring his teeth so I force myself into perfect stillness only moving my mouth to hiss, "What the hell are you doing? Protecting her from _me_?"

Emmett relaxes a bit and his teeth flash again only this time from behind a shaky uncertain grin. "No," he sighs. "Not from you, just from..." He shakes his head and then shrugs. "Look. She came down after you left, said she couldn't sleep, asked if she could stay with me. She seemed like she was starting to have one of those panic attacks of hers. I didn't know what to do. She wouldn't let me call you, when I tried to do it anyway she got worse so I stopped." The hand that had been stroking her hair stops for a second to drag over his own making the short ends stand up in spikes before returning to hers and the same slow, stroking motion. He looks down at her with a tender expression that further braces me against any sudden movements.

"I kind of acted on instinct and just did what I'd do for Rose when she gets this way. I took her and laid her down, like this," he indicates her position. "And then I put my arms around her, carefully," he adds for my benefit. "I told her I'd never let anyone hurt her again." He shrugs again with a small challenge in his eyes as if to say he knows it's my job and right to protect her but he's there anyway, that he cares for her as well before he continues. "Right before she fell asleep she told me not to let go. _So I'm not_." He emphasizes the last three words with a hard edge that tells me he's not about to change his mind. Or that he can't, which I think might be more accurate.

Making my way to a chair across from them I sit down heavily dragging my fingers through my hair the same way he had while trying to remain rational. Surveying her I can see no physical injuries though I can still smell that slight trace of spilled blood. Even as I inhale it's fading from fresh to stale indicating whatever injury she has it's no longer bleeding. My instinct to tear him apart is nearly as strong as his. Only knowing that Bella's fragile human body would never survive that kind of tug of war has me refraining. That and the fact that I truly don't believe he's going to harm her. At least not intentionally.

"She's doing it again," Jasper states from behind me, his mind linking Bella's previous actions with Rosalie and with him and forming a new connection to Emmett's behaviour.

"Yes," I reply tightly. "So it would seem."

"Yeah? Somebody want to fill me in?" Emmett snarls under his breath irritated as always with a conversation he can't fully be a part of.

"Your strength is your gift, Emmett. Combined with your protective instincts for your family it's what makes you so physically strong and so frightening to others of our kind. They know you'll tear them apart, that you're not only physically capable, but mentally willing if they get in your way of protecting Rose, or even us. Bella has inadvertently tapped into that and made it stronger. It's why you won't let her go. Even to give her to me." This last part comes out like a growl and once again Jasper places a hand on my shoulder. Exhaling harshly I manage to keep still. "She's hurt, Emmett. I can smell her blood."

"Her hand," he answers, making no move to release her. "It's not deep. She must have done it when she was dreaming. She got agitated for a bit and that's when I noticed it. It's not bleeding anymore."

"You need to let me have her, Emmett," I tell him, striving to sound controlled and calm. "I need to check the wound, clean it."

"No."

Again the instinct to rip his head from his shoulders is barely in my range to control. Jasper inundates me with waves of calm while I force myself to breath slowly in and out. Surprisingly the fading deliciousness of Bella's blood grounds me.

"Emmett..." My attempt to reason with him barely begins when Bella suddenly stirs. She wakens slowly blinking sleepily up at Emmett for a moment before smiling. She pats his arm gently.

"You can let go now, Emmett," she tells him softly. "You're going to get arm cramps."

Emmett's face relaxes into a real grin and his arms slowly release her as she sits up. No sooner does it happen then I'm across the room and lifting her into my own. With a speed I know they can't follow and a low growl to warn Emmett of the future consequences I fully plan to dish out over his actions, I whisk Bella away to our room.

Placing her gently on the vanity in our washroom I take her hand and bathe it gently in cool water apologizing when she winces. When the dried blood washes away to reveal a small thin cut over her palm her breath hisses out in shock.

"Oh. The dream, but I... Bil... Well that's, um...odd."

I look up at her as I place a clean cloth over the area applying pressure to stop the very slow trickle of fresh blood that my ministrations have called forth. She bites her lip and looks at me with an expression akin to guilt as her broken words falter.

Arching an eyebrow I study her quietly. Sighing I place my hands on the vanity on either side of her legs and lean close freezing her in position when she acts as though she's about to squirm down and away.

"Bella. Explain. Now."

* * *

**A/N** *Ducks* Yes, I know. I've left you all hanging for weeks and now I have the nerve to leave you with yet another cliffie. I'm sorry. Well, for leaving you hanging but not really for the cliffie. I really like those in case you've never noticed, lol. To ease the pain of the cliffie I will let you know that I've finished chapter 42 and will be sending that on to my beta later tonight. Next update will be on or before Tues. May 11. and it does contain the meadow wedding you've all been waiting for.

Huge thank you's to everyone who has sent me supportive emails, PM's and reviews over these last few weeks regarding this story and my writing in general. Your support and encouragement during a real rough patch made this chapter, and the ones to come, possible. I'm getting back to being me again, remembering why I write Twilight fanfiction, and more importantly, why I write in general.

Extra special thanks to Cella72, my voice of reason and the calming influence in my insanity and angst. I honestly don't know what I'd ever do without you. I heart you hard, girl.

To Octoberland. My hardworking beta and my loudest cheerleader whose not above kicking my ass when necessary. Thank you for a million things, not the least of which is helping me past all my drama and bullshit.

To Saydonee, who left me my 2000th review in the midst of re-reading. Following your reviews kept me writing even when I felt like throwing my laptop at the wall! :-)

Special thanks as well to Solareclipses who reached out and let me know from one writer to another that she understood. Invaluable words and invaluable advice, thank you.

And last but definitely not least, to everyone who is reading, the biggest thank you of all goes to you. With my feet back under me I remember what's most important of all in this fanfic journey I'm on.

I write for me. I share for you.

xo

Aleea


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

**Ripples of Light and Dark**

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

My hands are shaking. If I wasn't sitting down my knees would be shaking as well. Taking in a deep breath, my nose fills with the scent of wild flowers and damp grass, the perfect olfactory equivalent of the meadow. The bouquet in my lap accented with perfect miniature ivory roses is heady, but then so is the entire meadow. For once nature has outdone even Alice. Or at least I think it has. I've seen very little of anything besides this tent, Alice creatively bringing me in the back way so that all I really saw was the draping canopy of tan coloured canvass and a small glimpse of the right side of the meadow in bloom.

Behind me, I feel Esme fasten yet another seed pearl pin in my hair, and my hands tremble harder. Excitement, nerves, fear and love; the combination tightens my chest and sends my heart into a rhythm that would better suit a sprinter. I just barely resist rubbing my damp hands on the pristine layers of the dress I still can't quite believe I'm wearing. If I'd bothered at any time in my life to imagine myself getting married, if I'd ever once thought about the perfect dress, it wouldn't have been this one. And yet, as I sit here staring down at the gauzy layers of fabric and lace skimming my thighs and falling in a waterfall over my knees to brush against the tops of my slippered feet, I'm awed. Alice couldn't have picked a more perfect dress if she tried. I don't even mourn the other one. The one that probably still hangs in her closet. My Austen dress, my before dress when Edward and I still believed in perfect fairytale endings. I run my fingers carefully over the lace, not surprised to realize I like this dress better.

"There. Alice, what do you think?" Esme steps in front of me to admire her handiwork, and Alice joins her.

"Perfect." Alice's smile is stunning, and her small hands feel icy when she reaches for me and grabs mine, pulling me to my numb feet and over to the mirror. How she managed to get a mirror here is another mystery I don't feel like digging into.

Laughing, she squeezes my shoulders in a vise like grip, shaking me slightly harder than necessary. "You have to open your eyes, silly, or you won't be able to see."

"Alice, I don't think I want to see." The words sound half strangled, and I have to force myself to swallow past the sudden lump in my throat.

"Of course you do, dear heart," Esme chides gently.

Alice's hands gently stroke the tops of my bare arms. Her musical voice is soft, her smile apparent in every silken syllable. "Open your eyes, Bella. Open them so you can see what he'll see. Open them so you can take the next few steps to your future."

I do it slowly, letting my lashes curtain my view as if it will help delay the inevitable. It doesn't, not really, and eventually I have to face...myself. Only it isn't a vision of myself I normally recognize. Once again the Cullen women have worked an impossible sort of magic. It's still me, only impossibly better.

My hair looks darker, richer. The sides are pulled up and loosely piled on top of my head in some perfect way I can't detail. Long tendrils spill off the sides in soft silky spirals, and the back hangs loose and long in artful waves and curls. The tiny seed pearls stand out against the dark mahogany color and catch even the minimal light inside the tent, sparkling and lustrous looking. They're only outdone by the sparkle and glint of the simple but beautiful diamond studs in my ears, a gift from Esme and Carlisle. I touch them gently, tears burning the corners of my eyes. I try not to think about how much they probably cost.

Watching me, Esme smiles gently, one cool hand taking the place of Alice's, stroking my arm in the same rhythm, one obviously meant to soothe. "The earrings are perfect, Bella. Carlisle and I knew they would be, but seeing them on you... Well, there just are not words."

The tears gather and tug, and I blink furiously at the reminder of Carlisle. It's bad enough that my Father isn't here, but understandable and in some ways necessary. For Carlisle not to be here, however, seems infinitely wrong, like I'm robbing him and Edward of something that can never be replaced. Carlisle has waited so long to see his 'son' happy, to see him gain some measure of peace and comfort in this life he granted him.

Not wanting to focus on regrets, I push the thought away and focus instead on the dress. The tiny cap sleeves, the intricate antique lace detail, the way the material drapes open at the empire waist to reveal the silk underskirt that skims my legs and moves with every step I take, floating like a dream. Alice, being Alice, somehow knowing how to offset the white with a silk black sash tied in a tiny bow beneath my breasts, an anchor of colour to ground me from the panic inducing starkness of tradition and innocence. Simple, elegant, beautiful and somehow...me.

"It's perfect, Alice. Thank you." Behind me she beams, looking for a moment as though she might be about to change the rule that vampires cannot cry real tears. Pressing my bouquet into my hands, her lips ghost coolly against my cheek before she takes a deep unnecessary breath.

"Okay, I need to go check on the groom. Stay here, relax, don't panic, and don't wreck your make-up. I'll be back in a few." She begins to dart away then just as quickly returns hugging me hard from behind. "I love you, Bella, and I'm so glad you're my sister." She's gone before I can respond, Esme's cool kiss on my cheek just as sweet and brief before she too is gone leaving me alone in the quiet shadows created by the canvass walls of the tent.

I close my eyes while butterflies riot in my stomach and nerves shake the petals of the flowers in my bouquet. I'm getting married.

_I'm getting married._

The edges of my lips turn up in a soft smile. Even with the nerves and the feeling that somehow all of this might just be a dream I'll wake up from before it's over, I still feel a sense of peace. A sense of rightness, as though finally the pieces of a puzzle are coming together enough that I can start to see the full picture.

The conversation Edward and I had before Alice had spirited me away plays through my thoughts now, once again grounding me to this moment and reminding me of why I am here.

"_Bella. Explain. Now."_

"_Promise not to get angry?" _

"_No." His voice is steely, but I see the slightest softening in his expression. It had been a childish request really, asking for a promise I doubted he would have been able to keep even if he had agreed. Squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin, I tell him everything. All of it. The dream, which is still surprisingly fresh and vivid in my mind. The reasons behind why I'd done what I had. Billy's promise, made in blood, his and mine._

_Edward stared at my hand, his brow furrowed. The bleeding has stopped, but the small thin cut still stings. _

"_Why didn't you tell me you wanted to try to do this? I would have..." His words stop, and he shakes his head at me._

"_You would have what, Edward?" I ask him gently, holding his gaze with my own. "Told me not to? Arranged a meeting with Billy? Spoken to him yourself to protect me?"_

_His mouth quirks slightly at my exasperated tone. "Yes."_

_I sigh, my turn to shake my head at him. "I needed to do this, Edward. I know you don't trust Billy, but I do." He looks surprised, and I alter my statement slightly. "Or at least I trust him in this."_

"_I don't like him in your head, Bella," he snarls quietly._

"_I felt safer having him in my head than I would have meeting him in person," I whisper, hoping he'll understand. Allowing Billy into my dreams was a risk free way to communicate and the most private way possible. I'd known if I'd confessed to Edward what I wanted to do that he would have found some way to intervene. Just this once I desperately wanted to protect him and his family from having to deal with the repercussions a face to face meeting may have brought. Just once I didn't want them to have to pay a price, whether it be simple stress in the confrontation or something none of us could foresee. It had cost me though; the pain in my head was worse, and the throbbing in the base of my skull echoes in my bones and joints._

_Edward's expression softens further. "You still should have told me. I thought we agreed no more secrets."_

"_I didn't even know if I could do it, Edward. Controlling all of this is...hard." It's a gross understatement and he knows it. "I just knew I needed to try. I want what you want, I want to leave here, start over, with you. But I need to do whatever I can to try and make sure Charlie will be safe when we leave. You know as well as I do that he'll never stay in Alaska with us."_

_He sighs and takes a step back from me, less looming and more frustrated. "Always trying to look after everyone else," he mutters, and I know he's only speaking his thought out loud. _

"_I had to, Edward," I repeat._

_With another louder sigh, he nods, and then cupping my face he kisses me fiercely before pulling away just as abruptly. "No more though, Bella." His eyes are intent on mine, and I know he's studying me, taking in how I look and weighing it against what he knows about my physical condition. "Promise me right now. No more, not without talking to me first." He says the second part only grudgingly, and I know he's trying hard to keep his promise not to make decisions for me._

"_I promise." There is no hesitation to my answer. It is an easy promise to make. Not only do I not want to keep things from him, but I also doubt I'd be able to do it again if I tried. The connections I can never quite seem to grasp seem even more frayed in the aftermath of that dream. I stare at my hand and one of Edward's cool fingers traces the line, soothing the sting. I watch his eyes which surprisingly have remained a soft golden color with no traces of thirst. In fact, he seems oddly relaxed and at ease given the way my blood has to be more potent than ever for him. Small drops spatter the sink and have soaked the wash cloth he used to clean the cut. _

"_I must have done that with my nails while I was sleeping," I whisper nervously, still watching him. I refuse to even touch upon the idea that somehow what Billy had done found a way to manifest itself in reality. Edward seems to share the sentiment as his only answer is a nod._

"_Alice is coming," he tells me with another sigh. Slowly his mouth turns upwards at the edges. "You know I used to love watching you sleep. Holding you in my arms, listening to you breathe, getting to hear your dreams. It was such a peaceful time." He kisses my nose soundly and steps away, reaching under the counter for the bleach and splashing a generous amount into the sink. "I dare say I no longer feel the same. I think I like you better awake."_

. . . . . .

As my reminiscing comes to an end, I can't help but smile, thinking about how much has changed between us in such a short time. That he hadn't freaked out over my dream talk with Billy to me illustrates perfectly the new trust we've begun to have in one another. It gives me courage and I open my eyes once again to the reflection of me. Bella, the bride. Bella, the person who is honestly more than ready to be Edward's wife. His mate. And soon, very soon I hope; his equal.

The butterflies don't lessen but the feeling is suddenly more anticipatory than anxious. The feeling grows when the flap of fabric that makes a doorway stirs and Carlisle's voice floats through.

"Bella, may I come in?"

"Carlisle?" Confused but unable to doubt the sound of his voice, it's a moment before I remember to answer. "Of course, come in."

He steps in carefully, his expression slightly cautious. It changes the instant he sees me, widening into a breathtaking smile. Carlisle's outrageous movie star handsome features are never something you can forget, but there are times when it still catches me off guard. It's almost hard to breathe for a second as his eyes take me in and the smile grows.

"Bella," he breathes. "Look at you. How lovely you are."

Blushing, my words come out like a nervous stammer. "Carlisle. Thanks. Thank you...I...What are you doing here?" A sharp stab of panic hits me in the stomach as I think of Charlie, but he soothes the fear away quickly. "Is Charlie...?"

"Your father is fine, Bella. Rose is with him, they were playing cards when I left. Gin Rummy if I remember correctly." Which of course he does. With the initial panic over, I can take in details better, noting how handsome he looks in his dark suit, the perfect cream coloured rose bud pinned to his lapel. He's come dressed for a wedding.

"It occurred to me, with some help from Rose," he adds with a rueful smile, "that there was no one here to walk you down the proverbial aisle."

"Oh...I..." My heart pinches a little at the thought of how this should have been, even as it softens immediately after with the realization of what Carlisle is offering.

Moving closer to me, Carlisle's smile gentles with understanding. "I know ideally this would be Charlie's place, but if you would allow me, I'd very much like to have the honour."

Despite Alice's warning, my eyes fill with tears, and I know I'm about to wreck my make-up. "I'd like that, Carlisle," I tell him, somehow managing not to bawl like a two year old. "I'd like that very much."

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

Alice is beaming like she's swallowed her own ball of sunshine and darting frantically around. I swear she's started adjusting the petals on the wildflowers growing at the edges of the meadow. Jasper is grinning, his mind quickly running over the ceremonial particulars while also finding time to be vastly amused at me and my growing nerves.

I watch Carlisle enter Bella's tent, and grit my teeth as yet another vibration from my pocket alerts me to another text from Emmett. I yank it out, and roll my eyes at the words across the screen.

_R U married yet? _

I type a quick curt no and instantly get a new response.

_What's the hold up?_

_Emmett!_

_Don't forget 2 smile at her when she comes toward you. No brooding emo man!_

I stuff the phone back in my pocket and ignore the next vibration.

Jasper chuckles, and a wave of calm has my shoulders relaxing slightly. I offer him a small smile of gratitude before returning to staring at the tent.

"You know Emmett just wants to be here."

Another reminder of how this wedding isn't perfect doesn't help my mood. I'm anxious and eager, and I need to see Bella. I haven't seen her in hours. Every second feels like an hour, and every hour has been an eternity. I watch Esme light the candles in the glass holders that line the flower petal aisle Alice created, surprised to find that it's only minutes until twilight, the daylight hovering over the horizon as shadows begin to grow.

When Esme lights the last candle, she turns to me with a smile. "Ready?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with the unnecessary question. Out of the corner of my eye I watch as Alice darts into the tent, and suddenly all the nervousness fades out of my body. I've been ready since the very first day I brought her to this meadow and realized I was in love with her, my perfect, fragile, stunningly strong, beautiful human girl. The answer to every prayer I never dared admit, even to myself. My smile answers for me, and Esme kisses my cheek before moving to stand across from me. Flashes of memories fill her thoughts, not all of them happy, though I don't need to be Jasper to know the emotions accompanying them are filled with love, pride and joy.

And then I have no room in me, no thought, no emotion beyond this moment and the sight before me. Alice floats over the rose petals and joins Esme, but I barely notice her. I have eyes only for Bella. She moves with uncommon grace, her dress stirring the red, white and pink flower petals so that they dance and skim over her tiny satin slippers. I hear her heartbeat combining with the soft sound of gently tinkling wind-chimes strategically placed throughout the outer edges of the meadow. With the susurration of the mild breeze soughing through the trees and grass, a more perfect wedding march has never been played. In one instant I am awed and shattered then put back together again, whole and complete in a way I've never been before. As she moves towards me, so breathtakingly beautiful, I have no power to compel myself to breathe; I know that from this day forward I will never again take one second, one part of her, for granted.

I barely notice my Father as he places Bella's hand in mine. I only hear and register Jasper's words in a very small corner of my mind. All I know is the feel of her skin, the smell of her, the warmth she radiates, the perfection of her tremulous smile and the light in her eyes.

When she says 'I do,' I take my first breath. Feel it fill my lungs with her unique perfume, rich with the scent of the tears in her eyes, and realize it is the first breath I've ever taken as a complete man.

And then it's over. Vows promised, rings in place, Bella in my arms, the taste of her mouth so sweet against mine, and I can't get her close enough. Around us my family claps, and Alice showers us in more petals, my phone buzzes nonstop in my pocket as the last of the day fades into evening.

Bella's heart is pounding like a trip hammer by the time I let her up for much needed air. Even then I can't quite bring myself to move my lips far from hers, allowing myself to breathe in the soft, warm rush of her exhalations.

Alice invades personal space, digging in my pocket for my phone which is still vibrating like mad. I can hear her laughing; hear the clicking of the camera function as she fires off several quick pictures in a row. No doubt to send to Emmett, though in truth my attention is completely diverted by Bella.

"Finally," I murmur, feeling her soft mouth curl up in a smile at my heartfelt utterance. "Finally. Finally. Finally." I can't help but repeat the words as all of this sinks in and the fact that she is well and truly my wife settles into the atrophied marrow of my bones. I barely resist the urge to growl at Alice as she tries to tug my arms away from Bella.

"Edward! Let her go. I want to hold her too, let go!" If the frustrating little pixie wasn't nearly sobbing with thoughts radiating with happiness and relief and profound joy, I might have ignored her. I still wanted to ignore her, but I press one more lingering kiss to Bella's mouth and somehow find the will to let go of her, though not completely. Bella is forced to return Alice's exuberant embrace one handed as I claim the other and steadfastly refuse to let go despite Jasper's laugh and the unnecessary feeling of serenity he layers over me. My actions do not come from any feeling of agitation or possessiveness. I am quite simply in a state of happiness unlike any other I've experienced, and the connection to my mate, to my wife, is too profound for me to withstand full separation.

It's not until Carlisle embraces me in a hug so hard I have no choice but to return it that I let Bella go. Even then the loss of contact is brief. Just long enough to accept a similar hug from Esme and deftly avoid a rather vigorous head rub and back pounding from Jasper, who seems to want to embrace his inner Emmett.

As though Bella senses my need, or perhaps her own simply mirrors mine, she takes my hand again even as she is enveloped in a hug from Esme as she officially welcomes Bella to the family. Esme's thoughts are brimming with happiness, and even a sense of possessiveness. She has yet another child to help fill the aching void left behind by the loss of her baby and the life that will grant her so much, but never that. I realize for the first time in that moment that for Esme, Bella fills that void in ways none of us ever truly have. Her humanity, and the fragility of that humanity, make Bella vulnerable and in need of care and protection in ways that none of us do. Bella is as close as Esme will likely ever get to once again being a Mother in the true sense of the word.

Finally Esme releases her, and then Bella's back in my arms, and I'm lifting her. Spinning her in circles, I swallow her little gasp of surprise in a kiss that I can't seem to balance with the same care I normally would. Grinning around it when she makes a small purring moan in the back of her throat that rewards me for my recklessness.

Alice squeals at Bella to throw her bouquet, and though she rolls her eyes at me, she braces her feet to the ground when I place her back down to gamely toss the flowers over her shoulder. Esme catches it with a laugh and a flirtatious wink at Carlisle, reminding him that it's been a long while since they renewed their vows. I doubt Bella notices any of that. No sooner does the bouquet leave her hands then she's launching herself back at me, reengaging the kiss she obviously very much enjoyed.

Jasper laughs again, mentally reminding me of our audience while Alice goads me further by showing me brief flashing images of Bella's leg. Her delicate little ankle, her silken calf, the smooth ivory column of her thigh wrapped by a lacy blue garter.

With a very deep groan of pure appreciation for my sister's insistence at following bridal protocol, I drop to my knees on the warm grass. Grinning mischievously at Bella, and relishing her tiny squeak of surprise, I slip my hands under her dress. Managing to raise it only a few short inches off the ground in my quest to both find the garter and enjoy the feel of each of those images come to life under my fingertips, I finally snag the small scrap of fabric. Without looking away from my now truly blushing bride, I fling it at Jasper who I can see in my periphery catches it easily in his teeth. He winks at Bella, increasing the flush of pink in her cheeks, and when I stand I can't help but wrap my hands around the warmth of that blush.

Bella looks slightly startled, and I realize in my euphoric state I'd moved with my normal speed and actions. "Hello, Mrs. Cullen," I whisper softly. She smiles, glowing from the inside out at my first use of her married name.

"Hello yourself, Mr. Cullen," she whispers back just as softly.

"Wife," I murmur, gloriously delighted by the way the letters feel sliding from my mouth to form that perfect word.

"Husband," she murmurs back, thrilling me, pressing closer to me, tilting her head up, lips parting, begging to be kissed, and oh, she never needs to beg...

. . . . . .

**Charlie's POV**

I shuffle the cards in my hand and watch as Edward's sister Rose frowns at her phone and mutters 'idiot' under her breath for the tenth time in less than ten minutes. Shifting awkwardly in the small confines of a bed not made for comfort, I watch her closely. I know something is up, but damned if I can figure out what. She moves from where she's been sitting at the end of the bed, and seemingly without breaking stride in her one handed text messaging, easily manhandles the pillows and me into a new surprisingly comfortable position.

With one hand.

Back at the end of the bed, she shuts the phone with a sharp snap, places it on the table and slaps her cards down beside it.

"Gin."

I stare at the perfect run she's laid out, not surprised at all. Conceding defeat with a muttered oath, I toss my own cards down in disgust. There isn't even any point in scoring. I watch as her lips twist with amusement and try not to be awed like a dumbstruck teenager. Despite how obviously beautiful she is it isn't all that difficult. Unlike the way I turn into a complete dithering moron around Esme Cullen, Rose's beauty is intimidating in other ways, like a cobra really. Mesmerizing, but no less deadly for its hypnotic allure. Despite how young she appears there's an edge to this girl that reminds me of her brother, Jasper. Something a little darker, a little edgier than the others. A little more of what she truly is rather than what she pretends to be.

Pointing at her phone, I fix her with a no nonsense look that would have most kids blanching. "Something up I should know about?"

Unaffected by my expression, she simply shrugs, turning her hands to inspect her nails. "Everything is fine, Chief Swan."

"Didn't ask you that," I tell her, purposely keeping my voice even though my curiosity is through the roof. I can see that she's relaxed and that at least reassures me that she's not lying about everything being fine. Still, I don't need to have any of their extra senses to see something is up. She'd flown in here over an hour ago, had a private rather intense chat with Carlisle and then sent him packing. A minute later she's pulled up the hospital tray table, placed a deck of cards in front of me, smiled like an angel who just fell from heaven and looking like one as well, and asked, "Do you play Gin Rummy, Chief Swan?" The cards were laid out before I could blink and the last hour has passed with me taking a rather brutal ass whooping and her fielding an ever increasing amount of texts on her phone. The fact that she can kick my tail at a game I've been playing since I was a kid without even really concentrating is a little humiliating, but all that aside, I'm no fool.

Something is up.

Her phone chirps again, and she sighs, looking up at the ceiling like she thinks some divinity is going to save her from whoever she's declared an idiot. I swear she growls when she snatches the phone back up, and I'd be lying if I said the noise didn't give me the heebie jeebies. She's too perfect and too beautiful to make a sound like that, and the contradiction is a little creepy.

The contradiction of the sound fading from her throat and the sudden radiant smile that gently touches her face, however, isn't creepy. It's stunning, and I almost forget to breathe. When she turns those odd golden eyes on me speculatively, I exhale harshly trying not to let her scramble my brain.

"I didn't ask if everything is fine. I asked if something is up that I should know about."

She continues to watch me for a moment longer, then glances down at her phone again. Something very slight changes in her closed expression. She sets the phone down on the table without closing it and spins it so it's facing me.

Glancing down, I see a picture. Edward and Bella, looking at one another and not the camera with matching expressions and smiles radiant enough to light up the screen. It takes me a minute to really take it all in, and when I reach for the phone and lift it so I can get a closer look, my hand is shaking a little.

They look...happy. I haven't seen that in a very long time.

Slowly the other details of the picture begin to register. Bella looks beautiful, her hair pinned up and the white lace dress flowing down her body.

White lace?

Edward, wearing a...tux?

"They got married?" The question comes out half strangled.

"Yes. Just now actually."

"They got _married_?" I repeat stupidly, despite that she's already answered me.

Leaning forward, she fixes me with a firm stare. "Chief Swan. You aren't going to make me regret telling you are you?"

My heart thumps loudly in my chest as I stare at the picture in my hand. The tiny screen probably isn't doing it justice, but even so the joy coming off of their faces is so evident you'd have to be an idiot not to see it. And I knew they were getting married. Not today, but someday, soon. Now it's real though. Edward Cullen is my son-in-law.

Edward.

Vampire.

Son-in-law.

Jesus. H. Christ.

Rose is still leaning forward, watching me. I realize her hand is hovering near the call button for the nurses' station, and she looks slightly irritated. I wave at her hand and shake my head. I have to clear my throat a few times to speak, but manage it after a moment.

"Nah. I'm fine. "She looks at me like she's not entirely sure I'm not lying so I repeat it. "I'm fine."

It's a beautiful picture, I realize, still staring. Bella is glowing, and Edward looks like he's about to burst with pride. The light around them is very soft, a typical Forks' gray day fading into a softer, darker gray evening. It frames them beautifully. "It's fine," I say lastly, a little surprised to find I really mean it. I mean, I wish I could have been there, but life isn't perfect.

"It's fine," I repeat again, and this time I say it with a smile, holding the phone out to Rose. "Can you do one of those text things for me, Rose? Tell them I said congratulations." A lump forms in my throat, and I have to swallow past it to continue. "Tell Bella, I love her, that I'm proud of her. Of...them. Of both of them."

She smiles again, that soft smile that takes the hard edge off her beauty and makes her twice as stunning. Tapping a few buttons with fingers so quick they blur, she turns the phone back to me in time to hear Edward's voice say hello.

"Tell them yourself, Chief."

. . . . . .


	43. Chapter 43

A/N Due to computer issues this chapter is only half beta'd. BPOV has recieved Octoberland's magic touch and approval. EPOV however is all mine and so are the errors.

Also while we are on the topic of errors, I am taking some liberties here with medical issues in this chapter and in ones to come. Keep in mind this is a work of fiction and since I can't google the effects of a mental shield on a non-vampire, I've had to use my twisted imagination, lol.

* * *

Chapter 43 A Wish for Time

**Bella's POV**

I don't know what happens, my weak human senses and reflexes too slow to comprehend the sudden and dizzying actions that happen around me. One moment I'm lost in a perfect moment with Edward, laughing and happy, his lips on mine, and the next I'm behind him. His arms forming a steel barrier around my waist, a snarling growl ripping out of his throat making my knees weak with fear. In front of us both Carlisle and Jasper have mimicked Edward's actions, pushing Alice and Esme behind them as well, growling in the same low menacing way, the sound utterly inhuman. Alice and Esme both push back and rebound from behind their husbands to stand at their sides. Equally fierce growls ripple from their throats no less frightening in sound despite the more musical femininity encased within the noise. I too try to push past Edward's restraint but I'm no match at all for his strength and I get nowhere. Instead I'm forced to peer around him, straining my eyes to see what they see. Not that it matters if I see. Only one thing would make Edward and the others react this way and my palms grow suddenly slick with an ice cold sweat.

Wolves.

As though I've conjured him by acknowledging him a lone wolf slips out of the shadows at the far end of the meadow. From this distance I can't entirely be sure but something tells me it's not Jacob. The coloring is wrong. As he gets closer I notice the size is as well. The wolf whimpers and takes another hesitant step forward before lowering its head and tucking its tail in obvious submission. The second whine is longer, more pleading in sound than the first. In front of me Edward relaxes slightly, though his arm remains where it is and I can still feel the tension in him.

"It's Seth."

Jasper growls again and goose bumps raise the hair on my arms. Alice lays a hand on his arm in restraint when Edward continues hesitantly, obviously taking the time to listen to whatever Seth is thinking. My head pounds so hard my vision wavers and my stomach threatens to purge the contents of my half eaten lunch. I feel freezing cold and hot all at the same time so that the clammy sweat that breaks out on my forehead and in the creases of my armpits and elbows makes me shiver.

"He's alone. He's brought something, an offering from the Pack. He means no harm."

Despite his words Edward pushes me farther behind him before I see his head nod at Seth.

Seth.

Once upon a time the gangly boy who'd helped save me from Victoria and the newborn vampires she'd created would have elicited only feelings of warmth from me. Now all I see is a wolf. Someone who can't be trusted, someone I instinctively now fear even as my mind tries to rationalize.

_He's not Jacob. It's Seth. Seth, who wouldn't hurt anyone, least of all me. Seth who became friends with Edward. Seth who Edward claimed had one of the gentlest minds he'd ever encountered. Seth, just Seth._

My head pounds in the exact same tempo as my racing heart and the part of me that isn't focused on what's happening vaguely wonders how much more of this pain I can take before I pass out.

Seth coughs a small barking sound, lowers his head once more and then bounds back into the trees where I can no longer see him. He's only gone an instant; only just long enough for me to formulate a question in my screaming head, but not nearly long enough for me to verbalize it.

"Edward, what is...what does he...?"

In human form Seth returns dressed in, of all things, dark dress pants and white collared dress shirt and tie. The clothing is hopelessly rumpled and damp in patches as though they'd been carried in his mouth. Which no doubt they probably had been. Several twigs are snagged in the right arm of his shirt showing that he must have dropped it too close to a patch of deadfall when he'd left them behind to show himself. His feet are bare and dirty. For a second that confuses me and then I realize shoes would be an item not easy to carry and therefore by logic excluded.

I can't stop staring at his stained feet. Such a human thing, dirty feet. Yet he's not human. Not at all. My heart hammers harder.

"I'm sorry, Edward, Bel..." He trails off and finally I tear my eyes away from his feet to look up at his face. Running his hands through his hair he stops halfway through my name, his eyes darting to Edward fearfully. "I'm sorry," he repeats quickly. "I didn't want to interrupt or crash or whatever...but Billy and Sam said you'd be leaving soon and we wanted you to have this before you go."

For the first time I realize he's carrying something. A rolled up paper tied with a thin leather cord. He holds it out nervously, his eyes darting to Jasper and Alice, then to Esme and Carlisle before returning to Edward and me. His face is a mask of fear and uncertainty and something else I don't quite recognize at first but that slowly dawns on me. He looks hopeful and a little proud, as though whatever he carries in his hand is something he believes is good.

Edward nods again and points to Jasper who is closest to Seth. "Give it to him."

Seth clears his throat and shuffles his feet, nervously glancing at Jasper as one might at someone certifiably insane and unstable.

"I'm supposed to give it to you and Bel...Um, you and...her." His eyes flit to what he can see of me around Edward's looming form. "It's like a wedding present." His chin rises in half hearted defiance though his eyes continue to bounce around trying to see everyone all at once. It's clear even to me that he's uneasy and uncomfortable and probably itching to change back to wolf form. I'm sure the near crouching position of five angry vampires would do that to a person.

Edward seems to relax somewhat and the lessening tension in his arm allows me to slip a little farther out from behind him. My panic is fading somewhat and with it the pain in my head allowing me to be a little less afraid and a little more curious.

"You've amended the treaty," Edward says quietly and Seth's face falls a little in disappointment as though he'd slipped in his mind and given away the surprise.

"Yeah," he answers anyway. "We have."

I don't miss the Pack plural term and neither does Edward who finally allows me to come all the way to his side, putting his arm around me instead of using it to push me back.

"How?" Carlisle asks, stepping closer to a still very wary Seth. I think I see him tremble a little.

"They've added Charlie and Bella's names. There is also an addendum of sorts. It states that the Cullens and the Swans are allies of the Quileute and therefore entitled to the protection of the Pack." Edward sounds equal parts amused and annoyed. Carlisle looks a bit stunned and Jasper snorts derisively, clearly unimpressed and possibly even insulted.

Once again Seth looks slightly put out. The hand that had remained outstretched clutching the scroll drops to his side and his lips purse slightly. "Yeah, exactly." His words are slightly muttered and deflated sounding.

"That means that Charlie is...?" My throbbing head makes it hard to fully comprehend and I'm not sure the Pack offering protection to them isn't mildly insulting. I only know Charlie is the loose thread in all of this and it's his safety first and foremost that matters in all of this.

"Yes, love," Edward answers gently, his voice pitched lower for my ears though they'd all hear anyway. "Charlie is under the protection of the Pack as well as any members of his family. It's in writing, though only in ink and not in blood." The last part is only understood between him and me and said with a touch of amusement as he acknowledges my dream talk with Billy. The slightly startled and contemplative looks of his family show that they've caught the undercurrents of the words if not their true meaning.

"Ink's fine," I mumble, blushing slightly. Edward hasn't taken his eyes off Seth and I realize suddenly that even though he's relaxed his defensive posture he's in no way complacent or less on guard. I see the small smile on his profile at my words but it fades quickly.

Carlisle clears his throat unnecessarily, his practiced human mannerisms a habit triggered by the silence that follows our words. "Thank you for bringing this, Seth. And of course extend our acceptance to your Pack and the Elders of your people as well for their recompense. We recognize and concede that the safety of Charlie Swan supersedes our hostilities and we extend a limited gratitude for that consideration."

Carlisle's words are not spoken unkindly yet their meaning is still every bit clear in the cold precise way he phrases them. He thanks Seth for the delivery but extends no such gratitude for the actual amendment. Instead he accepts it as a deserved, if not slightly inadequate, restitution. He offers a 'limited' thank you for my Father's protection but lets it clearly be known he does so only because he must.

Holding out his hand Carlisle silently demands the treaty and Seth gives it to him a look of confusion marring his otherwise boyishly handsome features. I suspect the words may be going over his head in meaning but expect he's memorizing each one nevertheless to share with the Pack when he's back in wolf form.

Without looking at the papers Carlisle flashes to Edward startling me and handing them over. He's gone again and back in front of Seth before I can even blink.

"As for my daughter," he continues as though he's never stopped, his voice turning dark and menacing "her name _belongs_ on that treaty. She was a Cullen _then_," he all but growls, emphasizing 'then' with crystal clear meaning awakening images in the growing darkness of another night, twice as dark in so many ways. "She is a Cullen _now_. We protect our own."

"Amen," Jasper all but snarls.

Seth takes a small nervous step back and then tightens his shoulders and stands his ground. "We know that. We never meant to sound like we..." He turns back to Edward his hands in fists at his side, trembling slightly though still maintaining control. His eyes seem to plead for understanding as the shadows grow around us tempered only by the flickering of candlelight. Alice and her penchant for overdoing means even as evening takes full hold there is enough light for even my weak human eyes to see everything.

"We know you don't need our protection, any of you. But we...It's there okay? If you ever do. Ever. We'll be there." He shakes his head frustrated perhaps at not being articulate enough to express his thoughts. "_I. I'm_ sorry for what Ja...for what he did. For what _my_ sister did." When he drops the Pack plural I understand that his real frustration is not at a lack of articulation, but at it being so difficult to express his own individual feelings. He's looking at me now and Edward tenses again a small displeased growl churning low in his throat, in warning perhaps?

Reaching out I grab a handful of Edward's crisp linen shirt, fisting it in a damp palm, probably ruining it forever. I'm not sure if I do it to stop Edward from silencing Seth or to encourage him to silence him. In the soft glow of the candles I can see Seth's eyes are wet with unshed tears and something in my chest knots up hard. It occurs to me suddenly that Seth has been hurt in all of this in ways I'd only barely considered. He'd worshipped Jacob. Looked up to him and praised the ground he'd walked on only to be betrayed and see that praise and adulation be destroyed. His sister took her own life after committing an act that enabled Jacob in nearly raping me and nearly killing Charlie.

God. How many people have been torn apart by all of this? When will the repercussions end? Hot tears from the seemingly bottomless well I carry inside spill out of my eyes and increase the pain in my head. I gasp around it, trying to compartmentalize, searching for doors I can't find in my mind that's gone blacker than the forest surrounding us where the light falls short. The relentless pressure in my head expands and I know I'm shielding. The helpless inability to stop frustrates me beyond belief. I have no more power of it than I have over the memories that threaten to overwhelm me. I feel exposed and so incredibly sad.

"Seth," I whisper from a tight throat. I swallow and try again, find more volume and some strength in my husband's arms that are abruptly around me. "Seth, it isn't your fault. Don't apologize for what he did. Don't...okay? Just...You've lost...too. I know you have..."

Edward says my name softly and starts to turn me away. Resisting I watch as my words affect Seth. Make him tip his head back and tremble harder though I can't tell if it's repressed emotion or the need to change. Maybe both. Tears drip from his jaw and splash over his wrinkled dress shirt.

"I'd rip my own heart out, Bella." He sobs, no longer taking care not to say my name even if it means provoking Edward's wrath. "If I thought it could change anything. If I thought it could heal you, or bring...her...back, I'd do it. I'd do it and lay it at your feet because you didn't deserve any of that and I am sorry. Sorry that I wasn't man enough or strong enough, or smart enough, or pure blooded enough to stop it...I'm..."

I push on Edward wanting for some strange reason to go to Seth, maybe because I can see that he may be the one person who really understands, who knows what I feel. The heartbreaking sense of betrayal and hurt is something he and I share. Edward won't let me go and the panic falls down around me because the need to comfort Seth is in such conflict with my fear and loathing for what he is.

_Werewolf. Enemy. No one I can trust or believe in or feel safe with the way I used to. _

_Right?_

_Jacob's betrayal is the worst but in some ways they all betrayed me._

"Go home, Seth." Edward says his voice almost gentle. "Nothing can change what's happened and she is right, it wasn't your fault. You are one of the true innocents; don't let your misplaced guilt destroy who you are. Go home, mourn your sister, get on with your life. Let it go."

"I don't know how," he whispers sounding lost and tortured and I realize there is so much more to the conversation going on between his mind and Edward's.

"Find a way," Edward replies firmly. "We can't absolve you. My wife cannot absolve you. You're only hurting her and no matter your innocence, Seth, I will rip you to shreds if you don't leave. Now!"

I realize I've fallen apart and barely noticed. My breathing is in pants and panic is all over me. I'm trembling and almost grinding my head into Edward's shirt in an effort to escape the overwhelming pain in my head. Pain that I swear is threatening to split my skull in half.

I grip Edward's shirt harder, scared for Seth even after I hear the brush snapping and cracking as he runs at full speed away from us. I tell him I'm okay over and over again, repeating it until the words lose all meaning, repeating it for Edward, for Seth, even for myself.

I'm lying through my teeth and the warm gush of rust scented liquid trickling from my nose to flavour my upper lip in copper and salt proves it.

I'm not even close to being okay.

**Edward's POV**

Seth.

The growl doesn't completely die in my throat at my realization that the wolf barrelling down upon us is alone and, at least in the context of danger, a non-threat. Although it does become one born more out of irritation and growing anger at the audacity and fucking nerve of this cursed line of wolves than fear for Bella's safety.

He enters the meadow from the west side. Whimpering, he tucks his tail and entreats me with his mind for understanding. In front of me Jasper and Alice have dropped to crouches and Carlisle and Esme's thoughts are equally defensive, though their postures are not quite as ready to spring at the young reckless wolf's form.

Seth's mind is a tangled weave of changing thoughts. A convoluted mix of fear of our reaction, or more specifically mine, duelling with an expectant excitement at what he's come bearing. Beneath it all is pain and overwhelming remorse. He's holding that remorse close to his heart. Using it to keep him together, to give him strength and courage to stand in front of us now in an attempt to make things right again.

I'm reminded again and again how young he is, how young they all are. Immature, volatile, hasty in their actions, unstable in their emotions. Children saddled with the impossible responsibilities of their supernatural gene pool.

Behind me Bella's tense form begins to tremble and my lips pull back over my teeth as the protective instinct for my mate fully engages. It doesn't matter that this is Seth, someone I know well and had once declared to have an innocent mind. Around me the minds of my family fall silent and I hear a small grunt of pain slip past Bella's tightly clenched jaw and lips. From my peripheral vision I watch the color drain from her face, a familiar sight and reaction to the engagement of her shield.

I keep her tucked behind me, shielding her with my body despite the fact that I can discern no threat. In fact it's easier than ever to pick thoughts out of Seth's mind and read the exact reason for his sudden appearance when his is the only mind I can hear. When I tell him to give the amended treaty to Jasper and explain it to the other members of my family, his frustration at our limited acceptance is loud in his thoughts. He memorizes Carlisle's response and nervously steps back when my Father drops his cool impersonal tone and snarls a reminder of Bella's place in our family. His thoughts quickly scramble as he seeks to correct the slight insult he can see we perceive in their offer.

Behind me Bella trembles and I pull her to my side anchoring her against me while I curse foully and internally at Seth and the Packs continued meddling. Even their best intentions are destructive and Bella is too frail for these continued childish dramatics. Despite his good intentions, I want to murder him where he stands.

Under the weight of his guilt Seth attempts apologies that would infuriate me if not for the sincerity I can hear and feel in his mind. When he addresses Bella directly I let out a snarl that I know he can hear even as I keep it quiet from her. Pushing against my arm she attempts to move away as though she wants to comfort him when he allows his pain and loss to show.

"Go home, Seth," I demand, trying to keep my tone of voice level despite my growing frustration with him. My arms tighten gently around Bella, keeping her with me as growing alarm replaces the frustration at the cool clamminess of her skin and the uneven rhythm of her galloping heart beat. I offer him absolution from his guilt as my hand slips to her wrist measuring her pulse and watching deep brackets groove into the furrow of her brow. Though in truth I do so only to prevent him from further reaching out to Bella. Her breath turns to pants as she fists my shirt and her trembling grows.

My patience and limited pity for him end and I order him away as my concern for Bella ratchets up to new levels.

"Carlisle." If Bella hears the fear in my voice as I call Carlisle's name she gives no indication. Instead she merely whimpers that's she's okay while she presses her face to my chest nearly grinding against me in what is obviously overwhelming pain. I barely notice Seth's hasty retreat or the howl of sadness he gives when he transitions back to his wolf form. I only notice her. Her words, repeated as if she can convince herself that she truly is okay if only she repeats it enough. Her body, trembling so hard now I have to hold her up. Her blood, the scent suddenly strong in the air and hot upon my chest as it saturates my shirt.

"Carlisle." A yell this time, my panic barely contained even though he's already at my side reaching for Bella. She pushes away from both of us even as I stop breathing, stifling the burning fire that perfect scent ignites, so much more potent than I've ever encountered before as blood vessels in her sinus cavity rupture and gush forth. Her shield drops and with the scent of her blood carrying across the meadow I hear my family mimic my actions, wrestling with their own demons. The cacophony of their thoughts is loud in my mind after the prolonged silence. I let Bella go and drop to a crouch, my eyes immediately finding the weakest link.

Jasper. His eyes are dark signifying an engaged thirst, but his stance is calm and his thoughts are controlled.

"I won't harm her, Edward," he tells me quietly even as he takes a few steps back. I can tell they are only precautionary. A grunt from Carlisle has my attention diverting back to him.

Bella has taken a few more steps back, the handkerchief from Carlisle's jacket pocket clutched in her hand. The blood scent is weaker now, absorbed by the fabric and with the flow of it stopped as quickly as it had begun. She is staring at Jasper, an unreadable expression upon her pale face and I don't understand why Carlisle is only watching her and not helping.

"It's alright, love," I tell her gently. "Jasper is fine." Her body language is wary, almost defensive and she doesn't acknowledge me. I find myself digging deeper into Jasper's thoughts in response as though she might be picking up something I am not, impossible as that may seem. Again Jasper is calm in his mind, not breathing, not moving. He's attempting to convey that same calm to her, but although I cannot detect her shield it seems to be having little effect. As quickly as I think that she is not blocking, she once again is. Like always the mental silence she inflicts upon me personally is heavy and all encompassing, the web of it a weight on my mind I cannot shake off or remove.

Bella cries out, her hands instantly going to her head, the sound full of pain and distress and still she keeps her eyes on Jasper. Moving toward her, intent on offering her some kind of comfort, it takes me a moment to realize my body won't respond. No matter how hard I try I cannot go to her. When Bella takes another step back I find I can take one step forward, then no more. Beside me I watch Carlisle mirror my movements exactly. A step forward then no more.

"Unbelievable," Carlisle whispers. He's keeping his voice pitched to the level only we can hear as though he's attempting to not further upset Bella. She looks as though she's about to collapse and in fact her knees bend and she staggers slightly only to push herself back up again. Again she steps back and again Carlisle and I can only take the same equal step forward. "Do you feel that, Edward?"

It isn't until his question that I realize I can. The web that encloses my mind and shuts out all thought has become familiar to me and as I examine the sensation I can feel it not just around my mind but in the very air around me. Carlisle takes several steps back away from Bella and doesn't seem to meet any resistance. He repeats the movements to the left and right using his speed to experiment with the boundaries. It only takes a split second for us to realize he can go in any direction aside from one that takes him towards her.

I push against the invisible barrier, first with my mind and then with my hands and body. There is no tangible or tactile sensation. I simply cannot get closer than I am to her. At least 5 feet separate us and no amount of physical force or will allows me to breach it. Like a wall with no substance yet impenetrable nonetheless.

"Bella," I groan helplessly as she staggers again, whimpering and nearly gouging her fingernails into her scalp. Gasping pants are all she manages in the way of breathing and I can tell she won't be able to stay upright much longer. "Love, stop," I beg. "It's all right, no one will harm you. Please..." I don't know if she can hear me. I do know she's as helpless to control her shield as I am to move past it.

"Physical manifestation? Or mental?" Carlisle murmurs to himself, to me, but I cannot focus on the science of what she's doing. I can only focus on what it is so obviously doing to her.

Bella collapses to her knees and beside me Esme moans and tries to reach out to her with no more success than I. Dropping her hands Bella groans and I can see her delicate fingers gouge into the grass and earth pulling up clumps.

"Jasper." She pants his name with no more volume than a whimper though the plea in her tone sounds loud to me. "You can't...okay? I don't...I can't...if you..." She moans again and impossibly grows paler until her skin seems almost transparent. Through it I can trace the veins around her temples and one that pulses with her heartbeat across her forehead, frighteningly prominent.

"Bella, I won't harm you. I swear it!" Jasper tells her as he backs farther away, trying to keep his movements controlled as though afraid of startling her. Alice is at his side, her arm linked through his.

"Come away," she tells him loud enough for Bella to hear before she addresses her directly. "It's okay, Bella. Let Carlisle and Edward help you. I have him, he won't hurt you, he would never hurt you..."

"I'm sorry," Bella cries out her voice breaking on a sob as she curls in on herself. "It's not your fault, Jasper. I just...can't...if you...if my blood...makes you..." She gasps and moans, nearly rocking on the damp grass and I curse and push harder against the shield that keeps me from her. I cannot pass it. "Please," she whispers so quietly no one with human hearing would ever hear her. "You can't try to attack me again, Jasper...I can't...not this time...I won't...be okay if you do it...this time."

My heart nearly breaks at her plea as I realize what she's doing. Protecting herself. Instinctively now. Whereas before she'd failed to understand the danger and reality of what Jasper was capable of, she now sees it with clear certainty. My heart breaks, not just for her pain and fear but also for the loss of her innocence. My sweet naive trusting girl is no more. She is forever altered by what has happened and the dagger of pain that pierces me is reminiscent of mourning a loss. It mingles with the sting of failure that I haven't been able to protect her from all the darkness I know so well. Darkness I never really wanted her to know, no matter how often I tried to make her understand the dangers.

"No one will hurt you, Bella. Your blood is nothing to us now, love. Not even to Jasper. Not even to _me_." Finally my words seem to reach her and she crumples to the ground curling in on herself as her mind releases its hold and the shield crumples just as completely as her body. I'm at her side an instant later, Carlisle on the opposite. Someone, Esme I'm presuming, has brought him his medical bag and as I pull her gently into my arms cradling her close, he's attaching the blood pressure cuff and listing her vital signs in his mind.

_Can you hear me, son? _He asks in his mind.

Running my fingers gently over Bella's face I nod. She's conscious, but her eyes are tightly closed and even her lips are drained of color. Only the smear of red beneath her nose and across her cheek breaks the unrelenting pallor of her skin. She feels cold to me. I say so out loud and it's his turn to nod.

"Is she okay?" I near silently ask him, my mouth moving too fast for her to see even if her eyes had been open.

_No. _

His answer is succinct and painful, though I hadn't needed the answer at all. I can feel how frail she is and hear the unsteady rhythm of her heart. I close my eyes and find I know more prayers than I'd ever realized. I feel Jasper's presence and he kneels in front of me. When I open them he meets my gaze radiating a serenity that barely touches any part of my agony. He removes the handkerchief from his suit pocket and dampens it with a bottle of water he must have gotten from the tent.

_Let me help her, Edward? She's afraid, I can sense it. We have to calm her before she engages her shield again._

Incapable of speech I nod and watch as he gently calls her name, waiting until her eyes open. With tender motions and careful actions he cleans the last of the blood from her face and neck. A soft swipe over her collarbones, all the while radiating a sense of peace that is strong enough to even out her breathing. Through it all he speaks to her softly.

"You're safe, darlin," he says with a smile, letting his natural southern accent curl his vowels in a way he's long since kept controlled. "No amount of your blood is ever going to make me lose it again. Not that you don't smell divine," he teases gently, "but you just don't smell edible any longer. I'm civil enough to not want to eat my little sister."

Bella manages a weak smile and Carlisle's thoughts tell me that what Jasper is doing is helping. Her blood pressure is dropping slightly, her pulse starting to stabilize once again.

"You're safe, Bella," Jasper repeats, the feeling behind his words, the assurance and comfort are conveyed with his gift so that she finally relaxes in my arms.

I kiss her forehead, murmuring nonsense and endearments and breathing my breath over her face with slow exhalations until she's nearly boneless against me. Esme smoothes the snarls in her hair where it's become entangled in the pins from her pained grasping and Bella's eyelashes flutter. Alice leans her head against Jasper's back with a silent sob her tiny hands fisted in his jacket, mangling the material.

Ignoring the growing visions in her mind because I simply cannot handle them now, I press my lips to Bella's. The lingering taste of her blood a sweetness I abhor rather than crave while the lingering coolness to her skin terrifies me. "Sleep, my little love," I murmur as I feel her begin to drift away from consciousness. "I have you. I won't let you go. Sleep."

Carlisle removes the blood pressure cuff and as one we rise and leave the meadow, Bella tucked safely in my arms. Behind us the flowery aisle glows in the moonlight and the growing breeze blows the delicate petals across the field and into the deeper shadows. The last of the candles drown in the pools of their own wax with little hisses that sound like sighs.

The deeper shadows of the forest enclose us but not even the darkest of nights can conceal things from my enhanced vision. As Bella turns her head further into my chest I can see the dried blood that mars her flawless skin. I can even easily trace the lines drawn outward from her inner ear, into her hairline, across her delicate lobe and beneath. One diamond pendant earring painted red.

"Carlisle..." My father's name is a garbled near silent plea, but he hears me. His hand encloses my shoulder without either of us breaking stride and squeezes hard enough to hurt. The pain is welcome.

He answers in his mind without even looking at what I cannot tear my eyes from.

_I know, son. I know. She's running out of time, Edward. I'm sorry._

* * *

A/N Yes, angst and a cliffie. (Ducks behind shield, though sadly not an impressive one like Bella's. Mines a plastic garbage can lid. Peeks around the side to see if you're all done throwing things at me.) Now, now! Good things come to those who take their angsty chapters like big girls. ;-) Next chapter will be like dessert, lemony dessert, Kay? Don't hate me. Lol.

Seriously though, I've been warning you all that we weren't quite done with angst and if you've been paying attention you would have seen something like this coming. I've been practically beating you all over the head with the fact that this shield is a bad thing for our fragile little human. The stronger it gets the weaker it makes her. She's in trouble, and Edward has a tough decision ahead of him. Luckily though we still have a little time for some much needed sweetness.

See you all next Tues. (May 25th)


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N** My apologies for missing my Tues. deadline. This chapter ended up being a beast and with the holiday this past weekend here in Canada where we had unbelievably gorgeous weather... Well, lol, I'm sure you all understand. They don't call it the May two-four weekend for kicks and giggles. Oh, well, maybe they do, lol. Ugh, anyone have any aspirin...tylenol...advil...a little hair of the dog that bit me? ;-)

**Speaking of this beast of a chapter, there is a small warning in effect here for the mention/discussion of an illegal substance. If you have a strong stance against this type of thing please take that into consideration before reading. You may also want to skip to my A/N at the end of the chapter for a further explanation of my decision to include this, and my plans for it in the upcoming chapters before making a decision to read or not.**

Thank you to my beta Octoberland for her wonderful editing skills, advice and insight, and to Cella72 for pre-reading, encouragement and monumental patience.

* * *

Chapter 44 In Sickness and in Health

**Bella's POV**

_Edward scoops me into his arms the smile on his face radiant. I need his lips on mine so I don't waste any time tangling my fingers in his hair and tugging him down. He doesn't resist at all, making that low growling sound in his throat that seems to vibrate across his mouth and into mine. A sound that is pure male pleasure and something else more primal and less definable. His taste fills my senses, sweet, cold, fresher than an arctic wind and a thousand times more stimulating as I arch my back trying to get closer, needing to get closer._

_My mouth opens in a pant and his tongue finds mine, stroking softly and erotically, making me tremble all over._

"_Edward." His name is a sigh I can hear like an echo repeated in my mind when he gives me a moment to breathe, taking his kisses to my neck. Around us the meadow is filled with sunlight and soft breezes and Edward's skin sends prism like radiance over every place it touches mine._

_I find myself suddenly lain across a rose petal covered bed, the rich scent of the flowers invading my senses, the silky touch of the petals on my body sending shivers of pleasure over me in waves. Through the gauzy layers of floating curtains that surround the bed I can see Esme and Carlisle, Jasper and Alice, dancing in the sunlight, spinning and twirling, so graceful and beautiful they seem right out of a movie._

_Edward begins kissing his way over my collarbones, dipping down to the swells of my breasts, pulling the satin sash below them away._

"_Edward," I whisper urgently, trying not to let his kisses and caresses distract me. "Your family is still here."_

"_Our family," he replies, breath cool and delicious against my skin, his taste filling me when his lips find mine again, taking away my reason, my sanity. I grasp to the edges of it, trying to push away the fuzzy unreal feel of this and focus._

"_Yes, okay, ours, but Edward, they're...I mean...they can see us."_

_His laugh is low and deep and deliciously sinful, his hand smoothing its way up my calf, sweeping silky cool caresses beneath my knee, over my thigh, dragging the material of my dress...No, not my dress. I'm wearing some type of silky peignoir, the material light as air, and...oh. Edward's hand finds my hip and he groans loudly because I'm not wearing panties..._

"_Bella, love, I want you so much...so very much."_

_A soft warm breeze blows the curtains around us, wind chimes tinkling, pink and red and white rose petals dancing now in the air, swirling around the dancing couples mimicking their movements._

"_They don't care, Bella," Edward insists, his words tickling my ear as he rises up above me, naked now. Naked and glorious and I can't focus, can't think, can't care that I'm naked now as well..._

_I'm above him, rising onto my knees, my hips over his, his hands over them, guiding me down so that he fills me perfectly, deeply, sending shock waves of pleasure over my entire body. Black eyes watch me, warm despite the darkness and I'm swirling, melting over him, rocking in this new erotic position we've never tried before, moaning his name..._

_I'm lost in his touch, the billowing curtains floating in against the bed, the dancing couples far away now, like a dream in the distance._

_Like a dream..._

_Edward rises, turning me until he's behind me so we're both on our knees on the bed while he drags handfuls of rose petals up over my skin, over my breasts, down between my legs, lips and tongue against my neck..._

_The black sash from my wedding gown is around Edward's neck. Our bodies entwined, connected, with me on his lap. His hands move down my back as I grab the ends and use them as leverage to lift myself up and then to slide back down, to pull him forward for deep, wet kisses. He tugs the sash away and lays me down, tying it back in place beneath my bare breasts, smiling wickedly as he wraps one long trailing end around his wrist, twining it in his fingers. Fingers that find their way down to where we're joined, down to where I'm throbbing, aching to be caressed, silk against my swollen heat, making me gasp and moan his name. He strokes me softly and I thrash against the bed as he thrusts harder inside me, hitting those places he knows so well, so very well..._

**Edward's POV**

I run through the woods with Bella cradled in my arms, focused on the sound of her heartbeat. The thoughts of my family are loud in my head, almost badgering with their concern and worry. I grit my teeth and force myself to keep pace with Carlisle, though I could easily out run him. His mind is racing as he tries to put together the puzzle that is Bella's condition.

It feels like it takes forever to get to the house, though in truth it's only minutes. Carlisle wants to examine her but I bypass his office and take her instead to my room, laying her gently down on the bed. She seems to awaken for a moment then just as quickly drifts back into sleep, too exhausted to stay alert. Even asleep her brow is furrowed and the lines bracketing her mouth seem deeply ingrained with her pain.

Carlisle is careful and quick, doing his best to be thorough without disturbing her. I kneel at her side holding her left hand, my lips pressed gently against her wedding rings, watching the fluttering of her eyelashes as she drifts in and out.

_Her blood pressure is still high, Edward, but it's considerably lower than it was. Pulse rapid but out of the danger zone and the bleeding has stopped. She seems stable._

He's debating giving her fluids as a safety measure. Bella hates needles so I shake my head at him. He's only doing it more as a precaution than a necessity and at this point I only want her to be able to rest without feeling any more discomfort.

When he's finished he stands beside me, hands hanging almost helplessly at his side.

_I don't understand this, Edward. I'm sorry, I wish..._

Esme, Alice and Jasper have stayed silent behind us, watching Carlisle and giving him space to examine Bella. Even their thoughts are quiet as well, though I can still pick up certain things. Like Jasper wondering why I don't just change her now.

Instantly I'm on my feet, growling at him low in my throat. "You want me to do this now? On her wedding night? When she's already so weak and sick and in pain?" I know I'm not really being rational and still the words come. I remember Bella on her knees in the grass in the meadow terrified of him and my helpless rage suddenly sees him as a target. A rational part of my mind knows it really isn't his fault, but I want an outlet and he's it.

Alice steps in front of Jasper almost protectively, her eyes pleading with mine. "Don't, Edward." Through her thoughts I see a vision of Jasper and I fighting, crashing against a wall, Bella awakening, confused and afraid.

I step back immediately, aware through the fading haze of my anger that Jasper is apologizing in his thoughts. Somehow I manage a nod of acknowledgement striving for focus and finding none. The room seems frozen. All of us standing statue still lost in helplessness, unsure of what to do or how to do it. It's Esme that breaks the spell as she squares her shoulders and vanishes for a second into the washroom, coming out with a basin of water and soft wash cloths.

Carlisle and I watch Esme sit carefully on the side of the bed and begin to wipe the last traces of blood off of Bella's face, the trickles from her ears vanishing and turning the white cloth pink. Nervously I search her thoughts but find nothing except tenderness, as though the blood is nothing more than dirt, as though the burn in her throat is non-existent. She is only a Mother caring for her child. Carlisle reaches out and brushes his hand over Esme's hair and then squares his own shoulders before leaving the room for his office. Through his mind I watch him searching his book shelves, yanking down thick medical volumes and scanning them rapidly as though he'll find some answer written in their pages.

I stand there torn between wanting to go to him and force answers I know he doesn't have and staying by Bella's side. Alice makes the decision for me, appearing beside me with clean clothes for Bella in her arms.

"Go," she says quietly. "Take a few minutes to get yourself together. When she wakes up she'll need you calm and in control. Let Esme and I get her out of her wedding dress."

"Don't wake her..."

"Edward," Esme says quietly from the bed, her tone firm. "She can't rest comfortably this way. Go."

**Bella's POV**

_He's taking me higher, using his free hand to stroke every inch of my body. I can't breathe but I don't care. Who needs air?_

"_You're so beautiful," he groans, the hand between my legs covered partly in satin moving faster with every deep powerful thrust. Then he's lifting me, pulling me once again to straddle his hips and dig my knees into the soft rose petals and satin sheets. Pressing cool kisses over my throat, down to my breasts, the free end of the sash tickling the side of my hip._

"_More," I pant, plead, beg and he's already giving me more, hips rocking upward until I'm on the edge of that perfect blissful cliff._

_Edward is growling, panting, whispering the most sinful erotic things in my ear, against my lips, his words vibrating through his tongue as he flicks it against my tight aching nipples. All over the sensitive skin between my breasts._

"_So beautiful, my Bella, my wife..."_

"_Love, you're are so wet, so warm, you're exquisite, you're everything, God, so tight, like velvet..."_

"_There, yes, love, like that. Oh, the taste of your skin... "_

"_Edward, don't stop, please." I'm crying out, my entire body tensing, throbbing, my heart beat feels like it's risen from my chest to my head, pleasure mixing with the pain._

"_Yes," Edward's voice is a seductive demanding snarl now. "I can feel you, Bella, feel you, you're so close, so perfect. I want to feel you coming for me..."_

_The world swirls with the pleasure, fading in and out with the pulses of ecstasy and the throb of my new cranial heartbeat. The pain is like darkness, dragging and heavy, the pleasure like the bursts of dancing refracted light from the arms that hold me so close, but not close enough. Never close enough, never..._

"Bella, hush, it's okay."

Alice.

Her voice peels away the perfect layers of the dream that's left me aching, exposing me to the real world, one where pain is a reality I'd rather not face.

Someone wipes something cool over my face and then my arms.

"Edward?" My voice sounds like sandpaper.

"He's right here, Bella. Just rest, sweetheart, everything is fine." Esme's voice is soft and it soothes the ragged edges of my nerves. I drift back under, only this time the darkness is soothing and quiet. I miss Edward's arms, his voice, his touch, but it's okay. I just need to sleep for a little while...

**Edward's POV**

Not knowing what else to do I make my way to Carlisle's office and stand helplessly in his door way watching as Jasper joins him in his fruitless search. Jasper's thoughts have turned to alternative means of controlling and alleviating Bella's symptoms and I gawk at him.

"Marijuana?"

He looks up startled and slightly chagrined, his mind showing me he's merely running through possibilities and hadn't yet latched fully onto the fleeting thought I've pointed out.

Carlisle pauses in his manic page flipping and regards Jasper thoughtfully. "It's not without merit, I suppose. Keeping her calm seems to be the only way we can control her inadvertent shielding." He grunts in frustration, dropping the book to his desk with a loud thump. The pages emit fine dust particles into the air, a testament to how long it's been since Carlisle has delved into the subject matter of neuroscience. "The medications I'm giving her seem to be having an adverse reaction in that regard."

"What do you mean?" It's not often I find myself having to ask that question but Carlisle's mind is jumping around so fast I'm having difficulty following him.

He runs his fingers through his hair, a human motion that belies his frustration. "I've been giving her Lorazepan to control her anxiety, increasing the dosage regularly but the side effects may be triggering the exact reaction I'm trying to avoid. All the drugs in this category are similar, Edward, you know this."

My mind easily recites back the lengthy lists of side effects he's pointing out. Drowsiness, confusion, lack of energy, slow reflexes, depression, just to name a few. Already physically weak and suffering from the overwhelming stress and sadness from the attack, the Ativan seems to be compounding her problems. It is triggering the very thing it's meant to prevent, anxiety. Bella feels more helpless and out of control than ever before and her reaction in the meadow to Seth is proof of how vulnerable she is feeling.

"I could increase them," he muses out loud. "Sedate her heavily, at least until we get to Alaska."

My mind instantly flashes back to the night of the attack and I hear his mind, as well as Jasper's, do the same. Even under the effects of the Rohypnol Bella had been terrified of being sedated. Jasper had been able to use his gift to put her under so Carlisle could examine her, but it doesn't take a genius to know both of those things had only traumatized her further. It's unlikely she'd agree to sedation now, and the risk that even asking could trigger her shield is too high to contemplate.

Carlisle's thoughts come to the same conclusion and he begins to think of ways to administer the drugs without her knowledge.

"No!" My voice is adament. "I will not do that to her. I will not break her trust that way and the risk is too high anyway. She's already struggling with the effects of the drugs you're giving her _now_."

Carlisle nods almost apologetically. _Just considering all the options, son. I wouldn't want to do that either._ His thoughts show his frustration at not being able to come up with something more and with his lack of knowledge.

"Edward, what do you feel when Bella's shield is engaged?" he asks suddenly. I know he's hoping that my explanation might help him find a suitable course of action.

"I can't describe it. First and foremost is the silence. Secondly, if I concentrate, I can feel an almost net like or web like substance coating my mind."

"Yes," Jasper agrees. "I sense that as well."

"Remarkable." Carlisle sits behind his desk and stares down at the book in his hands as though trying to absorb the information inside through force of will alone. "I felt something similar today when she was blocking us physically."

"Is that what she was doing?" Jasper lays his own book aside, tapping his fingers on the cover restlessly.

"Couldn't you feel it?" I ask, surprised.

He frowns, thinking back and searching his memories. "No. I felt nothing. Only in those few moments when she wasn't shielding, and then I only felt everyone's distress. Hers of course was the strongest."

"That makes sense that Jasper couldn't feel it actually," Carlisle muses out loud. "He was attempting not to upset her, taking steps away from her, not towards her. Only you and I Edward, and at one point Esme, tried to reach her."

"So what you're saying," Jasper injects, "is that Bella's shield is now manifesting as an actual force that can prevent people from reaching her?"

"Yes," Carlisle answers emphatically. "A very powerful force. Edward and I both tried repeatedly to breach it with absolute zero result."

"She's like Renata." Jasper's tone sounds slightly awed. Renata is one of Aro's most treasured bodyguards. Her gift a shield that can prevent anyone who might think of attempting him harm from getting anywhere close enough to do so. Like an invisible force field, Renata's projected shield has made her invaluable and a source of awe in the Volturi coven.

"Yes," Carlisle answers, his voice quiet and almost reverent as his mind forms the connection. "Only more powerful by far, Jasper." Imagine Renata with the power to not only shield Aro physically, but mentally as well."

"Not only shield him," I add, feeling a new core of fear begin to build in my mind. "But enhance the powers of those he keeps closest to him, as well as his own." I don't speak the rest of my thoughts out loud but the silence that follows tells me I hardly need to. Bella's gifts are both the ultimate in defence and attack. Carlisle, and especially Jasper, won't have failed to pick that up.

As if to prove my point Jasper's mind is suddenly very active with speculation on what someone like Aro would do with someone like Bella. I growl at him again and he shakes the thoughts away, once more apologizing.

"None of this matters right now," I bark angrily. "What matters is Bella in _this_ moment. Carlisle," I plead desperately, my voice losing its edge of anger. "Tell me what to do?"

Leaning back in his chair Carlisle stares at the ceiling, his thoughts once again conflicted and chaotic. "I need more information, Edward. An MRI, a CAT scan, at the very least. More blood work as well. She's stable right now but I don't understand the physiology of what is happening to her, nor can I accurately judge the damage that may have been done. If we can get her well enough to travel and to Alaska I'll be able to run more tests, search more diligently for answers..."

He's outfitted the house in Alaska with enough equipment to run his own medical unit and his thoughts lament the distance between us and it. He contemplates taking her to the hospital here and running some tests but disregards the idea, quickly noting that anymore stress on Bella would be extremely dangerous. Given her adverse reactions and negative associations with the hospital we'd be asking for trouble even attempting to take her there now.

"Change her, Edward." This time Jasper speaks his thoughts out loud and my growl of displeasure is no longer quiet. He holds his hands up defensively. "Think about it, Edward. She's not getting any better. Today proves that. Her shield is getting stronger and she's getting weaker..."

Cutting him off I find myself directly in front of him, my face in his. "This wouldn't have happened at all if she wasn't so afraid of you," I hiss at him, relentless in my need to find a target.

He shakes his head at me, not responding in thought or movement to my aggressive actions. "It was more than her fear of me that triggered that reaction and you know it, Edward."

Forcing myself back to a calm state with his help I move away and find a seat, sinking down upon it without thought. I could be sitting on a bed of nails for all it registers.

"I'm sorry, Edward, but I felt her panic in those few moments she didn't have her shield up. It was more than just fear that I would harm her, though granted it was there and I'm not pleased about that. The real trigger for her though, was you. That emotion overwhelmed whatever fear she was experiencing for her own safety."

My body remains stone still, a testament to what I am, but internally I flinch and curl inwards, full of remorse and knowing what he's about to say.

"She associates what_ I_ did with _you_ leaving her," he says quietly, as though a softer voice will lessen the brutal blow of his words. "Of all the things she fears that is her greatest. Is it any wonder that she would tear herself to shreds trying to prevent that from happening again?"

"No, it isn't," I reply, though the question is obviously rhetorical. A thousand emotions tear at me, regret the foremost of those.

"Don't," Jasper intones, his hand hard on my shoulder, bracing and punishing all at once. "You cannot change what you did anymore than I can change what I did. We can only move forward from here and show Bella that she need never doubt us again."

He steadies me with equal measures of calm and assurance and I latch onto the powers in the emotions he sends to me. I know he's right, and regret and self loathing have no place in the decisions I must make now.

"I don't know what to do," I tell him, turning back to Carlisle, beseeching them both to understand. "I've fought so long for Bella's change to be about the right reasons. Not fear or necessity." My jaw clenches as though in an attempt to keep the teeth and venom that will tear her flesh and send her into a burning hell at bay. Keeping my gaze locked on Carlisle and my mind firmly entrenched in his, I ask him the question I've most dreaded asking since Bella collapsed in the meadow. "How much time do I have?"

He shakes his head sadly, remembering that only days ago he'd given me several months, possibly even a year. "I need to do more tests, I need more..."

"Carlisle," I growl. "Tell me."

He straightens in his chair and places his palms flat against the desk. His features cement into an emotionless mask, but beneath his fingers the wood cracks loudly giving away his pain at having to give me this answer. "If she shields this violently again, Edward, it could kill her. I cannot give you a time frame, son. I'm sorry. Every day, every hour you wait is a risk now. We don't know the limits of her power. Anything more than this could be a devastation she physically cannot recover from."

Something of the agony I feel inside must slip out of the iron clad control I've kept over my reactions because he rises and moves to my side with lightening speed. "Then I change her now," I whisper.

"Edward..." Alice's voice has me snapping to my feet and spinning to face her in the doorway where she stands. She's blocking me, or attempting to, but the visions overpower her, snippets and images blurring together, a range of possibilities impossible to grasp for the fleeting way they twist through her mind.

"What? What do you see?" I take her shoulders, barely resisting the urge to shake her. Jasper makes a sound of discontent and pulls her from me and she instantly presses her face to his chest.

"I can't see anything certain. It's all just different possibilities clouding everything. You haven't really made a decision and neither has she." Her voice is muffled by the fabric of Jasper's shirt and my eyes are drawn to the cloth she has clutched in her hand, several pale smears of Bella's blood prominent on the soft fibres. The scent of it burns all our throats but not one of us is focussed on the feeling.

"I have made a decision," I whisper through a tortured throat. Even as I say it I know it isn't really true. I can feel my mind shying away from the idea. She's so weak, so frail, and already in so much pain. Emotionally and physically. How can I put her through the torture the change will wreak upon her body? Especially when I've already promised us both time. Time to heal, time to be together as husband and wife. We _need_ that.

Alice shakes her head, turning her face so I can see the sadness in her eyes.

"What do you see, Alice?" Carlisle asks her gently, resting a hand on her back while Jasper pulls her closer in reaction to whatever emotion she's emitting. Her eyes don't leave mine when she answers him.

"She may not be strong enough to withstand the change, Carlisle. The stress of it...I can't see anything clearly, but..." She closes her eyes and allows what she's been hiding to fill her mind.

_Bella, her tiny body writhing beneath pale coloured sheets, silent yet shaking as the fire burns through her. All of us standing around as the intense pain takes Bella under and away from any comfort. Pain engulfing her until she loses all sense of self or reason, her shield engaging in her mind's desperate and futile attempt to protect her. Each one of us buckling under the weight of her power as she blocks us. Me, trying to get closer to her and completely unable as the shield becomes physical and not just mental. Watching in helpless horror as blood begins to pour from her, nose, her eyes, her ears..._

"Enough!" I gasp, slamming my fist into the nearest wall again and again. In vain trying to get away from the sickening image of Bella's blood flowing too quickly for the venom to save her from what appears to be a massive cerebral haemorrhage. Her heart to weak to keep beating...

Alice whimpers and begins filling her mind with random Arabic translations desperately trying to force the images away. Carlisle grabs me, yanking my hands down to my side and pinning them there as chunks of wood and plaster thump to the ground at my feet.

"I can't be certain, Edward," Alice cries. "I can see other outcomes as well, but only if you don't do it this way. If she chooses it, her and not you...or if you give her more time...or if she can get stronger... It's not impossible." She pulls away from Jasper and grabs my face so hard her nails rake my cheeks with a screech like metal on a chalkboard. "It's not impossible, Edward" she repeats when I nearly tear Carlisle's arms off to get away. "Look," she hisses, "just look."

_Bella again fills her mind, her body in the midst of her change, only this time I'm holding her, rocking her in my arms, smoothing my hand over her forehead. I'm talking, almost incessantly, telling her about Paris, about Istanbul and Nigeria and all the places in the world I will show her. The image changes and now I'm singing, kneeling beside her on the floor by the bed, humming her lullaby, an old Rolling Stones song, the latest top forty hit off the radio while she twists and cries and begs for an end, my touch no longer a comfort... Another change and this time I'm holding her while she lays silent and vampire pale. Perfectly still in my arms before opening blood red eyes and saying my name..._

"Do you see? It's not impossible!"

Carlisle lets go and I crush Alice against me, holding her tight while we both strive to let the images she sees of Bella and I together whole and immortal sooth away the nightmare of her previous vision. I begin making decisions, knowing each one I make will allow Alice to see things clearer.

"We'll go to Alaska," I murmur into her hair watching as Carlisle and Jasper wait for us to fill them in. "Jasper. Can you get what you were thinking of earlier?" My mind races with everything I know about the medical uses and advantages of marijuana, absorbing Carlisle's thoughts on the subject as well when he understands my thinking.

_It could work. Certainly it will calm her and the side effects are so much less than anything I can provide_, he offers in his mind.

Alice's more positive vision begins to solidify beginning to be interspersed with new images of Bella still human, giggling and lolling against me lazily. A soft dreamy smile on her features as she pets my face, telling me she loves me and that I'm ridiculously handsome. Resting peacefully, her brow no longer line ridden with pain, the shadows fading from her eyes, and her skin turning back to its previous ivory glow.

"Yes," she says vehemently. "It'll help her. You have to keep her calm. That is the key, Edward. She won't shield as long as she's relaxed and happy and unafraid. That and we need to get her far away from here and these stupid fucking mutts." The vulgar curse is so out of place tumbling from her pursed little mouth I almost laugh. Or maybe it's the relief I feel as her vision of Bella's change solidifies further with each decision I make. Either way I find the strength to release her and step back, quickly filling Jasper and Carlisle in on what she's seen and what I'm planning.

"We'll leave for Alaska tomorrow if she's strong enough. Carlisle, can you charter a private jet? I know it is short notice but the less demanding the trip is for her the better."

"Of course," he murmurs, already retrieving his phone and moving to his desk, booting up his laptop.

"I can get what we need," Jasper tells me and I don't bother asking how.

"Alice, go with him. Make sure to pay close attention to her future so he doesn't get anything laced."

Jasper snorts and rolls his eyes. "Trust me," he says with a short curt laugh. "No small time pot dealer is going to want to risk me coming after him by selling me something he's cut." Nevertheless he grabs Alice's hand and quickly leaves while I remove my phone from my pocket.

"Emmett." Something about the tone of my voice keeps Emmett from launching into wedding night jokes.

"What's wrong?" he growls.

"Where are you?"

"Less than five minutes away, just between home and the hospital."

"Come home," I tell him. "We need you here." I can hear the wind whistle through the line as he begins to run.

"Three minutes," he says, before he ends the call abruptly without asking for details. This house is about to become a fortress and no wolf will make their way anywhere near without finding themselves in a world of trouble.

I take a moment to breathe unnecessarily and rhythmically, striving for calm before I make my way back to Bella.

. . . . . .

She is resting quietly when I enter the room Esme rubbing gentle circles over her back. She opens her tired eyes when she hears me and I kneel beside the bed running my fingers over her cheek, alarmed to note her skin still feels cold.

"Hey," she greets, her voice rough.

"Hello, love. Are you thirsty?" She nods and Esme rises and vanishes to the kitchen, Carlisle letting her know from his office that something with sugar would be best. She's back almost instantly and I help Bella sit up, moving behind her to brace her against my chest. I use my free hand to help steady the glass of orange juice when her hands tremble. She drains it quickly and asks for more, finishing most of the second glass just as quickly before sagging back against me.

Carlisle enters the room and encourages her to finish the drink with the pills he brings for her to take. "Something to help with the headache," he offers in explanation, his thoughts letting me know the medication will not interact adversely with the second half of our treatment plan. She takes the pills without complaint letting him and I know how intense her discomfort must be. I place one of my hands against her forehead allowing the coldness in my touch to provide whatever comfort it can. She makes a sound in her throat of pleasure and closes her eyes, snuggling back into me.

"It's better now," she tells us though whether she's being honest or just trying to keep us from worrying is unclear. She does seem less tense and so I allow myself to be hopeful.

"How much do you remember about tonight, Bella?" Carlisle asks, setting the empty glass to the side while Esme refills it from the pitcher she's brought up. I growl softly in my throat at his question not at all sure that bringing up the memories is the best way to keep her calm.

_Talking about it may help, Edward. Allow her to decide at least. She's stable and recovering quickly and not in any danger physically at this point. Coddling her will only make her feel powerless._

I know he's right so I refrain from any comment or noise of displeasure. If she feels powerless she's more likely to shield.

"I remember all of it," she whispers. "I'm sorry."

"Bella, love, please. You have nothing to apologize for," I tell her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and gathering her closer. She shakes her head against me and sobs softly.

"He's right, Bella. You have nothing to apologize for," Carlisle confirms, and Esme is quick to repeat the same words. Emmett has entered the room and Esme has mostly filled him in, speaking to him so quickly and quietly Bella's human ears never even noticed. He offers his own opinion in his usual blunt loud manner and she flinches against me.

"Damn right she has nothing to apologize for. It's those God damn wolves..."

"Emmett, shut up," I snarl under my breath as she trembles at the mention of the wolves. His thoughts turn sheepish as Carlisle berates him and reminds him that Bella must be kept calm. They do so again in the way that she can't hear and after a moment she seems to settle again. Turning her face up to me and reaching up to tangle her fingers in my hair she tugs me down so she can whisper something in my ear. The warmth of a blush accompanies the warmth of her breath as she speaks softly.

Carlisle and Emmett are still arguing in near silence as I slip an arm beneath her knees and one behind her back, lifting her gently. Esme comes to me having heard Bella despite her attempt at keeping her need private, offering to take Bella from me. I shake my head at her and quietly order them all away. Just as I had to trust my instincts earlier in Carlisle's office I need to do so again. Bella is overwhelmed and completely done. What she needs now is peace and quiet and some semblance of normality. I carry her into the washroom setting her gently on her feet in front of the commode.

Her legs are the consistency of jelly and her hands tremor violently against my chest as she tries to steady herself. She whimpers slightly with a sound of dismay and frustration and I place a tender kiss against her forehead.

"Let me help you, love," I murmur as her cheeks flame again in embarrassment when I brace her with one hand and use the other to pull the tie at her waist. For the first time I realize Alice has dressed her in a white satin pyjama set riddled with bows and lace. A ridiculous outfit considering the circumstances and I can't help but scowl, grateful Bella's eyes are downcast and not witness to my irritation. I soothe myself with the idea that I will find her something more suitable and comfortable later like one of my t-shirts, and turn my attention to my uneasy bride.

"This is so embarrassing," she whispers pressing her face to my chest so that I can feel the warm flames of her increased blush. Still, she doesn't protest when I slip my fingers beneath the loosened waist band and slide both the pants and her panties past her hips, lower her carefully to the seat. She rests her head against my abdomen bracing her hands against the tops of my thighs trembling and so obviously drained of energy my heart breaks for her.

"I'm your husband, Bella, don't be embarrassed. In sickness and in health, remember?" I murmur to her softly with a light chuckle, trying to soothe her. I tangle my fingers in her now unpinned hair, massaging her scalp tenderly. The words of our vows are still fresh and powerful in my mind. "Through good times and bad, in joy and in sorrow." Her tears are hot as they soak through my shirt as her body does what it needs to do and I continue to speak softly to her hoping to ease her discomfort. "It's my job to take care of you, Bella, my honour to do whatever that may require. Don't you know, love, that you humble me with your trust, your vulnerability? For as long as we both shall live I will cherish you, love you and care for you. That you allow me to do so means everything to me, love."

When she's finished I help her stand, readjust her clothes with a speed that takes away the awkwardness. She insists on washing her hands, brushing her teeth and hair even though she can barely stand. I support her with my arms at her waist while she trembles like a leaf, but when she reaches for a wash cloth I tug it from her fingers and lift her back into my arms. She buries her face in my neck the skin of her cheek damp and fragrant with her tears as I kiss her there softly.

I move the kiss to her mouth when she tips her head up to me, soft brown eyes drowning me in their depths as I carry her from our washroom to Carlisle and Esme's. Holding her in my arms I sit on the edge of the tub and fill it with warm water and fragrant bubbles, stripping us both quickly and efficiently. She moans in pleasure as I sink us down beneath the water and lay her back against my chest. More of the tightly coiled tension in her body slips away, rewarding my efforts. I slide one hand around her waist stroking her satiny stomach and hip beneath the water. With the other I brush my fingers through her hair, dampening it, letting the warmth of the bath and the coolness of my hand further soothe the pain in her head. One of her hands comes up out of the water and rests against the side of my face and I turn to press my lips to the lines in her palm.

"I'm going to do everything in my power to help you heal, Bella." My words are soft but fierce against her skin. "Whatever you need, however you need it, tell me and it's yours."

"I only need you," she answers, and for the first time in hours I hear the hint of a smile in the way her words are shaped.

"You have me, now, always, for the rest of eternity." I swallow past the panic that almost feels like a lump in my throat despite the lack of humanity that makes it impossible. I know I have to ask, have to give her a choice, a say, no matter what decisions I've made. "I'm so afraid, love," I whisper to her, having to force the words out one by one, find the will not to fall back into old habits and make choices for her. "I can feel you getting weaker. I can feel you getting tired of fighting. A part of me is screaming to change you now before something else happens, before one more fucking thing those idiot wolves do drives you so far under I can't save you."

Her hand at my mouth twitches and her body tenses as though she's about to turn, but I tighten my hold and prevent it. "Shh, be still, love. Hear me out, okay?" She nods after a few seconds and I continue. "I don't want to make choices for you anymore, but old habits die hard and I've made some tonight. Will you let me tell them to you and hear me with an open mind? I know you're overwhelmed and tired and unwell..."

"I'm okay."

I ignore her interruption and the obvious lie and sigh before continuing, tightening my hold on her, my eyes closing as I rush my words. "We can go to Alaska like we planned. We'll spend days doing nothing but being lazy and indulgent. You'll take long naps while I hold you. I'll take you to the hot springs and bathe you. We'll sprawl around on couches in front of fireplaces and I'll read to you. At night we'll lay in bed and talk and make love until your eyes are too heavy to stay open, and then I'll hold you close until the sun comes up. Bring you breakfast in bed, spoil you in every way you'll allow." The hand not against my face finds mine in the water and our fingers entwine together. "If you need to cry," I whisper, "then I'll hold you and catch your tears. If you need to get angry and break things, I'll hand them to you and clean up the mess when you're done. When you need to talk I'll listen, and when you need silence, I'll forget how to speak."

Shifting slightly I move our bodies until her head rests against my shoulder so I can look at her face. I trace the fragile perfect features that I treasure so much and find the will to finish my words. "Later, when you've had time to heal from all of this, Bella, I _will_ change you. I _will_ bind you forever to me in this life you've chosen to be a part of. I promise you. All I want is for you to have time to heal so that this choice you're making is yours and yours alone. For love and not necessity, for desire and not for fear, for a new beginning and not an escape from an ending."

She smiles through the tears in her eyes and she's radiant despite the dark shadows and other markers of her pain and ill health. "That sounds like Utopia, Edward. Did you think I wouldn't want that?"

I shake my head at her, forcing a smile I hope rings true though I can't hold it in place. "Tell me you have the strength to hold on, love. That you can stay strong enough, well enough, for us to get to that point. Or say the word and I'll change you now. Tonight if that is what you want," I tell her, pushing Alice's vision away and praying that she was right in seeing that Bella's decisions will play a huge role in her transition going well.

Bella shakes her head and drops her hand from my face to my chest, resting it there over my silent heart. "I want what you want, Edward. I can be strong enough for that."

"Don't, Bella," I admonish gently. "Don't say you can be strong enough. If this has become too much for you, just...tell me. Don't wait for me."

"I'm not." She moves her hand back to my face a little of the previous sadness returning to her face. "I'm not ready yet, Edward. Not because I'm unsure," she's quick to add, covering my mouth so I cannot speak. "I know I want forever with you, no matter the cost." Delicate fingers made warm again by the scented water trace my lips softly, sending their heat through my entire body. Her hands have finally stopped trembling. "But I'm tired," she tells me, voice dropping to a whisper filled with grief. Her eyes fall and so do her fingers making me miss her touch as she places them beneath the water against her thigh. "And I hurt, inside, outside, every side." Her lips quirk attempting to make light of her pain but tremble and fail. "I just want to feel safe and normal again. I just want to be still and quiet and have time to breathe and think without being afraid..." She trails off and I can no longer stand not to see her face. Tipping it back up to me I study her eyes, trying to see inside. "I want what you said. All those things." Her smile becomes real again. "Even the parts where you said you'd spoil me. I want that too. Most of all, I want time to forget. This, the way I am right now? It isn't how I want to start forever with you, Edward."

She must see the pain in my face at her words because her hand comes back out of the water and rests on my chest once again. Her rings glint beneath a thin coating of bubbles.

"I know I can't really truly ever forget. But right now it's always there, every second, every minute of every day. I want to spend hours not remembering, days if I can be so lucky...please I just..."

"Hush," I murmur, pressing my mouth to hers and kissing her slowly, desperately, aching to convey my every emotion through the movement of my lips over hers. "You will have that, love." I breathe the words into her mouth; lick her bottom lip just for the thrill of her warm satiny flesh and sweetness. "If it's in my power to give you then I will move heaven and earth to make it happen."

She exhales softly and goes boneless in my arms, her eyes closing in exhaustion. I lift her carefully and wrap her in towels, carry her back to my room and dress her in one of my softest cotton shirts, slide her beneath the covers of our bed and join her there. She moulds her body to mine, and asks why I am so good to her.

The question shocks me. "You are my life, my existence," I answer immediately then strive for a better one, sensing innately that it is important to her in a way I can't really understand. That she needs to hear more from me than just trite platitudes.

"Bella, for so long I believed God had forsaken me. And then suddenly there was you, my light in the darkness and you loved me despite what I am. It took me awhile, but eventually I came to understand that you are a gift and no God would allow me you if he'd truly forsaken me. I am by my very nature a creature perhaps not worthy of prayers or the right to sit in a church and offer my reverence and my thanks. So from now until forever I will thank him by worshipping at _your_ feet."

She's quiet for a long moment and if I didn't know every nuance of her physical being so well I might think she'd fallen asleep. I stroke my fingers down her hair and back, over and over, hoping to lull her that last little bit into the rest she so desperately needs. She stirs and I feel her lips twitch up in a smile against my skin and she exhales shakily.

Her mind is such an enigma.

"What are you thinking, love."

The smile grows and when she pulls away slightly to look at me the light is back in her eyes sparkling and beautiful despite the bruise like shadows beneath them.

"I was thinking of you, on your knees." She licks her bottom lip then bites it seductively before allowing the smile to turn into a mischievous grin. "Worshipping me."

Groaning, I kiss her gently but thoroughly before tucking her face back in the crook of my neck with a small laugh.

"You have a very dirty little mind, Mrs. Cullen."

She murmurs something not quite intelligible and slips into a quiet sleep. I hold her close and dare to hope.

* * *

**A/N** So. Explanation time. First off let me say I am neither an advocate for or against the use of Marijuana, either medically or recreationally. I'm 'Switzerland' so to speak, lol. I tried it once, didn't inhale... *_snort_* ;-) and all that nonsense. I'm simply a writer using my imagination. That being said I do have my reasons for choosing to incorporate it into my story. If your curious as to those reasons, or if I've upset you in any way with this chapter, please keep reading before raking me over the coals.

PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) is a difficult thing to treat. Using conventional methods to treat a fictional character with a fictional 'shield' even more difficult, lol. Like any writer worth their salt I've done a fair amount of research into the topic and during the process quickly discovered that I was going to run into a problem. The traditional medications used to combat the overwhelming anxiety, panic attacks, flashbacks etc. that are so common to PTSD would not realistically be enough to stop Bella from shielding. In fact, the more I looked into the side effects and case studies the more I discovered the very opposite would most likely be true. So I had a decision to make. Either tweak the facts and cover it with the excuse that this is fiction, or look into alternative measures. Marijuana fit the bill perfectly in many ways when it came to 'alternatives'. Still, I wasn't sure...

In attempting to make that decision (and keep in mind this was all done during the planning stages of this story and has been outlined for some time) I started doing a lot of thinking about the Cullen family and more importantly, the Cullen family as I am portraying them in this story. In short their fierce protectiveness of Bella, which I'm sure you will all agree has been in many ways the driving force behind all their actions thus far. So the questions were - How far would they go to protect her? What measures would they take? What alternatives would they be willing to consider at this point in the story to save her from herself? My answer of course is there would be very little they wouldn't do or consider. I think they've proven that, lol.

Still, I found I had a bit of a conundrum. In SM's world the vampires are noted as basically frozen or "unchanging", meaning the values and belief systems they held stayed and became locked in during their change. We get proof of that through Carlisle's unwavering compassion and desire to do good despite the instincts his vampire nature entails. And through Edward of course, who despite modern day morality still acts/behaves like an early 19th century gentleman, lol. So, could I possibly believe, or more importantly, make _you_ believe that any of them would so unflinchingly consider 'weed' as a viable means to help Bella through her current predicament?

I cannot answer that of course, that's up to you to decide. I hope I've made it believable, or at the very least, despite your own personal values/beliefs understandable. Please keep in mind I am not in any way advocating or encouraging its use in the treatment of PTSD. Or again, its use in general. At the end of the day this is still fiction and Bella and her shield do not exist, lol. In the upcoming chapter there will be another warning and actual usage, and I again ask that you keep all of this in mind when deciding to read or not. It will be tastefully done, a little on the sensual side even, and not overly descriptive. The goal is to calm Bella and ease her physical suffering, not have her 'baked' or 'fried', lol.

Now, feel free to commence with the coal raking if necessary. I'm a big girl, I can take it... *_whimpers the word Mommy very quietly_* Darn, where did I put that garbage can lid... ;-)


	45. Chapter 45

A/N. Slight lemon warning, and another warning for the use of the illegal substance we touched on in the last chapter. I've tried to keep it tasteful, realistic, and within the realm of the story that surrounds it. Btw, thank you to everyone who reviewed and left me support on the mj angle. I can't tell you guys how amazed I am by your acceptance for how I'm writing this story. I love you guys! :o) *ahem* (blushes) You know, in a strictly non weird, non stalkerish kind of way.

Octoberland did not beta this chapter, so please forgive my errors, you guys know my weaknesses by now, lol.

* * *

Chapter 45 Fragments

**Edward's POV**

As Bella sleeps, I listen to the sounds of my family moving swiftly through the house making preparations for tomorrow. Carlisle has already managed to make flight arrangements on a private jet that will leave at 6 a.m. I can hear him on the phone securing the last of the details and letting the pilot know that he'll be traveling with his family and medically fragile daughter.

_Medically fragile._ The term wreaks havoc with my already unsettled mind, and I find myself carefully folding her closer to me and inhaling her scent while the soft rhythm of her heart echo's through her slight form. I can feel the sharper edges of her bones beneath my palms and I'm grateful when I hear Esme moving about the kitchen preparing a light dinner for Bella.

I draw the blankets up higher over her shoulder wanting to shield her from my cold touch, but my movements waken her from the light sleep.

"I'm sorry," I whisper against her hair. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Her eyes open slowly and move around the room before resting on mine. "What time is it?"

"Just after nine," I answer quietly, brushing the hair out of her face. "You should try to sleep some more if you can."

She snuggles closer with a murmur of agreement, but I don't miss the way she presses her forehead harder than normal against my neck. As though she's trying to alleviate her pain with the cold pressure of my inflexible skin. I cup the back of her head, massaging tenderly over her scalp and she makes a soft grunting sound of pleasure.

"Does your head hurt badly?" I ask her unnecessarily.

"It's better. I'm okay." She mumbles the false platitudes, her breath warm on my skin.

Sighing, I ask her to look at me and shake my head in displeasure when she does. "Bella, if this is going to work, if we're going to put your change off for now, you need to be honest with me. Completely. Any symptom you have, no matter how small, I need to know."

She flushes a soft guilty pink and nods. "It does hurt, but it's a little better since I took the medicine Carlisle gave me."

"On a scale of one to ten?"

She worries her lip but seems to be assessing and judging her level of discomfort so I don't rush her.

"Five?" she offers, the number sounding like a question. The doubt makes me increase the rating to a six and distresses me. I hear Jasper and Alice enter the lower level of the house, their thoughts telling me their venture to Port Angeles was successful. Gently I tug Bella upwards and settle her in my arms with her side to my chest and her head on my shoulder, legs draped across my lap beneath the blankets.

"Do you trust me, love?" I ask, and she looks at me surprised.

"Of course." Her answer comes without hesitation.

"Good." Smiling, I trace her jaw line and brush my lips over her forehead and into the curve between her eyes, calming her further with my touch and the scent of my breath. "Because I'm going to ask you to do something for me that is very much out of the norm."

I glance at the door a second before my brother and sister knock. "Alice and Jasper are here," I tell her quietly. "Is it all right if they come in?"

"Yeah, sure," she replies, squirming as though she wants to move away. I tighten my hold on her and she quickly settles without complaint. "I need to apologize to Jasper anyway..."

Alice flits to the bed the instant the door is open though Jasper stays back, leaning against the doorway with a warm smile. He sends calm into the room like a breeze and Bella relaxes further.

"You don't need to apologize to me, Bella," he tells her. "We went through this already; do you remember what I said to you in the meadow?" She nods and he continues, moving further into the room and stopping a few feet from us. Crouching down he makes no move to hide the contents in his hands which he rests on his one raised knee. "You have a right to be afraid of me, Bella. We have history after all." His smile is rueful.

"I'm not afraid of you, Jasper," Bella tells him quickly, her voice soft and strained with her fatigue. "Not really. I don't know what _that_ was..." She shakes her head, her expression sad as her words trail off, lost for an explanation.

"We have some healing to do, you and me," Jasper tells her, his voice gentle and calm, though his thoughts are full of regrets. "I hope in time I can earn your trust." He doesn't wait for her to concur either way before he lifts the bag, making its contents more obvious. "Maybe we can start now?"

Bella stares at the bag and I reach out and take it from him while Alice sits beside us.

"Is that...?"

"Yes," I answer, assuming that even though she's innocent to the seedier things in life she is still intelligent and worldly enough to recognize the world's most consumed drug. Half the children in Fork's high school alone have regularly indulged, and done so directly under the eye of authority figures while smoking up in the parking lot during lunch hour.

She's quick to understand, and shakes her head with a small laugh. "I'm the Police Chief's daughter; tell me you're not going to ask me to smoke that?" Her eyes dart to the door. "Does Carlisle know?" Her voice grows almost silent and nervous, and Jasper laughs.

"Carlisle told me where to buy it."

"Bella, listen to me." I draw her attention away from the bag and back to me. "Right now we need you to consider this; I need you to consider this. The medication Carlisle has been giving you is helpful, but it isn't enough. Today in the meadow is proof of that."

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"No, love, you have nothing to apologize for. Your reactions are understandable, instinctual. But now, outside of the situation, can you see that you really had no reason to be as afraid as you were? Seth was no danger to you; Jasper was no danger to you. What was dangerous was your reaction to what you perceived. To what you felt."

She buries her head in my shirt and trembles.

"That isn't your fault, Bella," I'm quick to reassure her. "You've been through so much..." I gather her closer aching inside at how she's suffered, wondering how to make her understand. She is only human after all.

Alice reaches out and runs her hand down Bella's hair. "Bella? Can you look at me?" She scoots closer and places a hand on Bella's cheek when she looks up. "You trust me, right? I can see you now, clearly, and I promise this will help. Help with your pain, help you relax and be calm. It's just for now, until we can get you to Alaska where you'll start to feel safer."

"You can see that?" Bella leans forward fixing Alice with an intent look as though she's not certain she believes her. Or maybe she's just so desperate to hear something good, to believe that there is light at the end of this tunnel.

"Yes, oh yes," Alice answers, bouncing slightly on the bed radiating happiness. "I can see you and it works, it really does. You're going to feel so much better and it'll keep you calm so you won't shield. You'll go to Alaska, and you'll love it there. It's beautiful. Jasper and I will stay here for a little while, but not long, Charlie is going to get stronger faster than any of us thought. And in the mean time you and Edward will get to relax and just be married." She emphasizes married with a little wiggle of her eyebrows, smiling. Unable to contain herself she jumps up. "And when Jasper and I get there we'll...Oh!" Her eyes scrunch closed and a frown pinches her features as she stamps her foot hard enough on the floor to rattle the windows. For a split second my entire body tenses until I see the thoughts in her mind and settle back with a grin, brushing a kiss over Bella's hair to stifle a chuckle.

"No," Alice cries. "Bella, that isn't fair! Edward can't be the only one who gets to spoil you! Edward, tell her, tell her that she has to let us spoil her too!"

"Forget it, Alice," I tell her, moving my lips to the new furrows in Bella's brow. "I have the sole rights to spoiling my wife."

Alice's scowl grows before turning into a pout. She crosses her arms and momentarily contemplates arguing. "Fine," she mutters petulantly before breaking out in a huge smile. "We can talk about it later. Right now though you just have to relax and trust me, Bella. This is a good thing, don't be afraid of it. You're not going to get addicted or anything else you might be worried about..."

"Perhaps she's had enough just now, darlin," Jasper chuckles, sensing that Bella is becoming overwhelmed. "Why don't we just let her absorb what you've already told her?"

Alice pouts again momentarily, then flashes to Bella making her jump slightly in my arms. Carefully, Alice reaches out and hugs her without pulling her from me, no doubt having already envisioned I wouldn't react well to that. Drawing back before Bella can even respond to the embrace, she takes her face between her hands as she kneels on the bed beside us.

"Don't ever scare me again like you did today, Bella," she admonishes sternly, her fear clear in her eyes. "I need you, we _all_ need you." Leaning forward she kisses Bella hard on the mouth before jumping up, grabbing Jasper's hand, and leaving the room. It all happens before Bella can really react and she looks at the door they vanished through with a shake of her head.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get used to her," she says quietly, more to herself than to me.

"No one ever really gets used to Alice, love."

Her eyes fall to the bag that I've laid on the bed.

"I really won't get addicted?"

"No."

"I don't want to be stoned, Edward."

I chuckle lightly. "You won't be, not really. You only need a small amount to get the benefits. Will you try?" She hesitates, biting her lip, and I consider calling Carlisle thinking she might be comforted by his advice. Before I can, she sighs.

She nods her head once tentatively, then again with more determination. I can already sense her strength coming back to her, slowly but steadily.

As Bella whispers a soft okay, Alice sends me her latest vision, calling my name quietly to make sure I'll pay attention.

_Bella, strong, pale, immortal, running through white cascades of snowflakes and laughing. Looking back over her shoulder at me with a teasing light to red eyes that are turning topaz around the edges. The smile of the vision that is me speaks volumes of how happy I am in this moment not yet come to pass, how at peace._ When the vision fades, Alice laughs delightedly and I cling to the last flickering images like a drowning man to a life raft.

_Bella, twirling, arms outstretched, head tilted up to the sky, snowflakes clinging to her eyelashes and caressing her face, turning her hair silvery white like a veil. She smiles and holds out her hand, beckoning..._

The vision fades and I focus back on Bella in this moment. Pale and fragile and so very breakable.

"We'll have to hide this from Charlie. I don't think you'll be able to convince him I should have it."

"I don't know, love. We've convinced him vampires really exist, and to let his daughter marry one. I somehow think this might be a rather trivial thing in comparison." I separate the papers, and before she can blink I'm holding the edges up for her to lick so I can seal in the aromatic dried plant. "Lick," I tell her with a small smile. "I'd do it, but the venom will most likely deteriorate the paper."

"I guess we wouldn't want that," she answers quietly, eyeing the substance warily. Her heart rate has increased but she gamely sticks out the tip of her little pink tongue and I sweep the edges of the paper over it, rolling it quickly.

She smiles despite her nervousness. "You do that well. Is there something I should know?"

I have no secrets from you." I tap my head in illustration of my attained knowledge. "These indulgences are wasted on me I'm afraid, and in my human year's opium was the smoke of choice."

Her bottom lip vanishes beneath her teeth and her breathing quickens when I pick up the lighter. I kiss her out of need more than to distract her, though it seems to work and she calms beneath the attention.

I'm careful to count each heartbeat and monitor her every breath as I place the blunt in my mouth and light the tip. I contemplate the end for a moment as I pull it away, wondering how to best approach this. The taste is not entirely unpleasant surprisingly. Bella watches me, her expression suddenly unreadable as I flick it around in my fingers thinking to bring it to her mouth. She wrinkles her nose and coughs slightly, her body tensing.

"Let's try something," I murmur to her softly, and in a second I have us resituated with me leaning back against the pillows and headboard, Bella between my legs with her body cradled between my bent knees. I draw the smoke into my mouth and tip Bella's head back as though I were about to kiss her. She seems to understand what I want and with a small shaky sigh she parts her lips for me. I allow the smoke to seep from my mouth to hers, blowing gently to help her take it in. Her inhale is tentative at first, but instinctively she seems to know to hold it in her lungs for a moment. Her exhale is quick and she shudders but doesn't cough. I repeat the action three more times and then stop, allowing the drug to take effect. She keeps her head tipped back to me and licks her lips softly, her eyes closed.

"Look at me, love," I tell her gently, needing to see her eyes to judge the effect. Her pupils are slightly dilated and she blinks at me for a moment. I take another hit and this time she holds my gaze while I press my lips more fully to hers, brushing them back and forth and letting my tongue touch the velvet softness beneath mine. She makes a small purring sound, holding the smoke a moment longer. This time when she exhales I can literally feel the drug making her boneless. Her eyes are closed again when I pull back and I crush the end of the blunt in my fingers, extinguishing it and placing it on the bedside table. She's had enough for now.

She sighs and the tiny lines invisible to the naked human eye but not to mine smooth out from around her eyes. Her lips tremble and her eyelashes flutter as her eyes move beneath the lids, perhaps seeing something in the colours there she hadn't seen before.

I give her a moment to process, letting my fingers slide over her cheeks and jaw and throat, loving the softness of her skin and the tiny goosebumps that appear in the wake of my cold touch. When she opens her eyes again she has a slightly dreamy expression that makes me smile warmly.

"Wow," she whispers. "That's..."

"Good?" I ask, finding I am enjoying watching her experience this little decadence enormously.

"Different," she answers, the hesitance telling me she hasn't quite finished processing what she feels. "The headache is..."

"Better?" I supply when she seems to drift without finishing the sentence.

"Hmm, yeah, wow, a lot better."

Laughing softly I indulge my desire to kiss her again, teasing the edges of her mouth so as not to distract her from whatever she's feeling.

I should know better. Not even an illegal substance can fully distract Bella from anything she wants, and she apparently wants more than the light kisses I'm providing. She reaches up, tangling her fingers in my hair and tugging to get me closer. I pull back and lay her down, drawing the covers up over her, hoping she'll sleep. Again, I'm not really surprised when she quickly moves to align her body with mine. Placing my arms around her I draw her closer.

"Sleep now, love," I whisper in her ear.

She shakes her head slightly, her hair brushing my skin sending my nerve endings into overdrive and triggering an instinct inside of me. A need, deep and burning to reaffirm her life and my existence in the most elemental base way. A knowing hunger to taste her, to crush her to me, to claim her physically the way I have emotionally and seal the covenant of marriage. My physical instincts battle with my emotional ones.

"Not yet," she sighs, her leg sliding over mine, trapping it beneath her smooth, soft thigh. I can feel her heat straight through the thin cotton of the sleep pants, and it yanks a hiss from my throat, one born of pure pleasure. She lifts her head, her lips seeking mine, and it's all I can do to reach up and slow her descent.

"Love," I groan, fighting every urge I have. "You're exhausted, you've been through so much today and you need to sleep, to rest." My body is already pummelling against the restraints I keep it under, warring with my need to pull her closer, to roll her beneath me and join our bodies and take us both away from stress and pain.

"Please, Edward?" Her breath is so warm, so sweet and her plea draws my body into flames of wanting. I never want to deny her, but visions of her collapsing in the meadow fill my head. The smell of her blood, the sight of it trickling from her ears, her nose.

"Bella..."

"Please. I need you."

Her hot little hand roams my chest and abs, sliding lower before I can find the will to stop her. And because I never want her to think differently, I let loose the binds on my body so she finds me hard and wanting. All I can do is groan when she slides wicked fingers up and down the length of me.

"Bella, please, love, we..." Groaning again, I roll our bodies, pinning her form, and more importantly, her hands, to the softness of the bed beneath us. "Listen to me. We will make love again, very soon." I let my forehead touch hers, dragging her scent in and focusing on the burn to ground me and remind me of her fragile state. Fighting the images my words evoke, I plead with her and try to placate her with erotic promises. "Over and over if I have my way. I want to give you so much pleasure, make you climax so hard." A human shudder works its way over my stone muscles matched perfectly by hers. "But not now," I tell her firmly, despite what my body aches to do, despite the equal ache I can feel in hers. "Not tonight."

"Edward..."

"When you're stronger, Bella. Be patient."

"It's our wedding night though," she whispers, lips pursed in an adorable pout as her eyes glimmer with the threat of tears. Again I damn near give in to her, but the moonlight spilling in the windows shifts over us with the swaying of the trees in the wind and it highlights the deep bruises beneath her eyes.

"Yes, it is," I reply, smiling and gently tracing my fingers over a cheekbone too sharp in a gaunt face. She has to be at least ten pounds lighter than she was before this entire nightmare. On a tiny frame not given to fat in the first place, the effects of the weight loss is dramatic, frightening. "But we have forever ahead of us. Time enough for all of that. Right now you should sleep."

She sighs and her eyes seem to grow darker. I don't miss the sudden flash of determination that crosses her pale face. "You know, the marriage isn't technically legal until we...?" A mischievous glint makes those dark eyes of hers sparkle as she lifts her head and kisses my chin, the place beneath, the side of my neck where she flicks her tongue against my cold skin. "_Consummate_ our wedding vows," she finishes seductively, whispering the term 'consummate' like a dirty word and biting the place where my neck ends and my clavicle begins. One slim, silken calf wraps around one of mine, and she arches her body away from the bed and directly against mine.

"Bella..." I want to say her name with a firm tone that matches my determination not to do this, but the feel of her awakens things in me that make it sound more like a plea. The possessive feeling I'd gotten from speaking my wedding vows to her and placing the matching band on her finger has not dissipated despite the circumstances. I want to claim her, physically, hard, _now_.

Mine, my body growls, snarling past the warnings, the fears.

She senses my wavering in the panting of my unnecessary breathing and arches harder, rubbing herself against me. The thin shirt I'd placed her in has ridden up past her hips and I can feel her naked, soft heat rubbing against me, against the hungry part of me that could care less about how fragile she is. The scent of her arousal grows with the soft rocking movements she makes against me.

Dear God, how can I deny her when I can feel her growing wet, swelling so sweetly, opening so perfectly for me even through the flannel of my sleep pants?

Her mouth moves back up my neck and she trembles all over before pressing her lips softly to mine. I can't help but press down slightly as she rocks upwards again, groaning at her little moan of pleasure at the feeling. Where she is finding the strength for these actions I do now know.

"Sweetheart...oh, love..." I want to stop, but she tightens her soft thighs around my hips and she might as well have the strength of twenty newborn vampires for all the resistance I have to her.

"I was dreaming of you," she whispers, moist warm breath bathing my mouth where she remains so close I can feel the exact way her lips form each consonant and vowel. "Earlier, when I was ...asleep."

I don't miss the hesitancy behind the word. She'd been more unconscious than asleep and the memory once again helps steel my resolve.

"What were you dreaming of?" I ask, sliding my hand beneath her back, preparing to pull away but unable to resist touching the satin skin at the base of her spine first. The tension I can feel there shocks me momentarily. Like a tightly coiled spring the energy of it radiates into my palm through the small muscles and nerves. She's so tense it must be painful.

"You, us...In the meadow..." She trembles harder as I gently massage the knotted area, lifting against me harder and surprising me again with the strength she still manages to have. "It was so perfect," she pants, trembling even more and I realize suddenly that she's achingly close to a climax despite the little stimulation she's had. "I didn't want to wake up. Oh...Edward, please...Don't make me wake up."

There is something almost frantic about her need that frightens me. With hands as gentle as I can make them I draw her closer and kiss her softly. Taking her hands I pull them up from where they'd been frantically clutching my arms and shoulders and place them above her, curling her fingers around the iron roses in the headboard before she can hurt herself on my marble skin.

"Shh, love. I have you, hush now," I murmur, moving my kisses down her neck, soothing her and igniting her all at once. I cannot take her, not the way she wants, or I want, not now. But I can make love to her another way... Soothe some of this pain and emotion swamping her.

I shed the shirt and bare her perfect form to my ravenous eyes determined to melt away the tension inside of her.

"So beautiful," I praise, wishing she knew how lovely she truly is. How honoured I feel to be the one who is allowed to love her this way. She keeps her hands where I've placed them, watching me through slightly hooded eyes, her heartbeat racing slightly. I caress her slowly and cover her in a cool blanket of kisses, pausing to savour the places that make her pulse race and soft moans to break from her lips. The hollow of her throat, her sweetly hardened nipples, the dip above her hips and the tops of her creamy thighs. I part her legs and move the kisses and caresses to the velvet skin between them.

Bella's breathing increases when she realizes my intent and the heat of a blush radiates from her skin. Before she can grow overly nervous, I brush my lips against her most private place and nearly lose my mind. She's so warm, so perfectly lush and soft. Her sweet taste fills my mouth and throat and I groan against her in approval.

She gasps, and I pin her hips gently to the bed when her hands come down to fist in my hair and her body bows towards my mouth. With tender care I love her slowly and thoroughly. This is for her and yet I find the pleasure I get at loving her this way is beyond anything I would have thought possible. When she cries out my name and comes against my lips and tongue I feel like a God, heat surging through me with the force of my love for this beautiful woman who trusts me implicitly in ways I never dared dream myself worthy.

Moving back up her body I trace the same path that had led me down before moving to her side and enfolding her carefully in my arms. Her cheeks are damp and salty with tears.

"Did I hurt you, love?" I whisper in frantic question, but she shakes her head against my chest with a shaky laugh filling me with relief.

"No, God no, Edward."

Moving to my back I pull the covers up over her still slightly trembling body, tucking her into their warmth even as I pull her against my cold side. She places her head beneath my chin and sighs softly, finally relaxing completely. One of her hands moves down my body and I catch it before it can find its destination, raising it to my lips and kissing it before pinning it to my chest.

"Sleep," I order, pressing a kiss into her hair. "We have forever, remember? Sleep."

She sighs my name, but drifts off almost immediately, too exhausted and weakened to argue. I hold her through the entire night, listening to the sounds of my family's preparations, and more importantly, Bella's heartbeat, and eventually, the soft murmurings that accompany her dreams. For once the nightmares that have plagued her are nonexistent and she sleeps deeply and peacefully.

That she is in my arms and safe is a gift I won't take for granted ever again.

**Bella's POV**

I wake at four in the morning to a sequence of soft, cold kisses to my forehead and the tip of my nose. The room is dark and I can hear the sounds of rain pounding on the windows. Shifting beneath the blankets my arms instinctively reach out for Edward in an attempt to pull myself closer to him. I want nothing more than to burrow deeper into the covers, and him, and go back to sleep.

Edward chuckles and allows me to scoot closer, but not to go back to sleep. "We need to get up, love. Our flight leaves at six. Would you like to have a shower before breakfast?" He's rubbing my back briskly, no doubt trying to get me to wake up, but it feels good so I'm not about to complain.

"No breakfast, no shower," I mutter petulantly. "I want to sleep." A vague headache is pulsing somewhere in the center of my head and despite the soft bed I feel achy and out of sorts. My foggy sleep hazed mind slowly begins to filter facts about the last 24 hours and I groan. Now I really want to go back to sleep. I'd ruined my wedding day by having the mother of all panic attacks over someone as harmless as Seth Clearwater, and acted like a total idiot. Not to mention the excessive and repulsive nose bleeding in front of five vampires. And the shielding? What the hell had I done with the shielding? I can't even remember.

Oh, and of course to top it all off, I hadn't been able to have sex with my new husband. Although, wait... Ah, we hadn't had sex, but Edward...Oh dear God. I blush so hard and so suddenly it feels like my face is on fire. Not just because I'm embarrassed either. Then the embarrassment just grows when I realize I'd begged him to do what he did. Well, not that act specifically, I couldn't have in my wildest dreams ever imagined asking for that, but I had asked for sex even though I'd known I wasn't in any shape for it really. What I knew physically however, made no difference to how I'd felt emotionally. The fact that I'd been under the influence of marijuana doesn't ease me in the slightest. I'm still not sure how I feel about all that, and really, had I had enough of it to blame my actions on the effects? Probably not.

"I know," Edward says quietly, though what he knows I'm not sure. Luckily he clarifies before I can speculate and really get embarrassed. "I'd let you sleep longer, but it's an hour drive to Sea-Tac and you never ate last night. Aren't you hungry?"

I'm not, at all. In fact the thought of food makes my previously complacent stomach turn nauseously, but I know better than to say I don't want to eat. I settle instead for something noncommittal and try once again to snuggle closer.

. . . . . .

Despite my best efforts, twenty minutes later I find myself sitting at the kitchen table freshly showered and dressed, and trying not to yak over my plate of scrambled eggs and toast. Watching everyone flit around like industrious bees doesn't help settle my stomach. Alice has flashed in a blur of colors from upstairs to the garage so many times, I've lost count.

"I thought Alice was staying here," I ask Edward who is sitting across from me patiently waiting for me to eat and spreading a thick layer of honey over my toast. The image of bees in a hive grows stronger with his actions, but like the rest of my mental musings I can't seem to hang onto the thought long enough to even find it amusing. Dropping my fork I take the offered slice and manage a few nibbles in what I hope is an appeasing way while he answers.

"She is. But Alice never leaves the packing to anyone else, even when it isn't her own." He smiles and asks if I want more juice or tea even though both cups are still full in front of me. It helps that I'm not the only one distracted, but I doubt the reasons are the same. I can see the slight glazed look in his eyes that suggests he's listening in to everyone's thoughts. A second later he confirms it by answering an unspoken question from Carlisle, who's not even in the same room. Something about passports...

Esme steps up behind me, running her cool hand over my hair gently. "Are the eggs okay, Bella? You haven't eaten much; did I put in too much salt?" Edward seems to snap back to attention and I watch them narrow speculatively at my plate. Despite my efforts to pile the eggs into one small clumped pile at the edge of my plate to make it look like I've eaten, he's not fooled.

"No, they're fine," I assure Esme, though truthfully I haven't tasted more than a bite and hadn't paid attention at all to the flavours. I look at Edward pleadingly, hoping he'll understand that I just cannot eat right now. Not unless he wants to spend the next ten minutes holding my hair back while I bring it all back up again. "I'm just not very hungry."

Edward nods, but I can tell he's upset my lack of appetite. He starts helping Esme clear the dishes. "I can do that," I tell them, hating being treated like an invalid. I grab the juice glass and move to stand only to feel light-headed and sick. "I'm fine," I tell Edward when he looks at me. A blatant lie which is a knee jerk reaction rather than a real desire to cover anything up. Sweat breaks out on my forehead and the next thing I know I'm laying on the couch with a cool cloth on my forehead. I'm not sure if I passed out or if Edward had just picked me up and moved me so fast I hadn't had time to process it. Carlisle is kneeling beside the couch quietly taking my blood pressure and pulse.

"Are you sure she's okay to fly, Carlisle?" Edward is hovering, his hands clenching at his sides.

"I'm fine," I answer in his place, moving carefully this time to sit up. "I just moved too fast." I watch the look that passes between them, pleased when Edward nods and his hands unclench, though I think he's only trying to hide his feelings rather than feeling reassured.

Alice passes again in another blur but pauses in the doorway with a blanket and pillow in her arms. "She'll be okay, Edward, Carlisle," she says softly, smiling gently at me. "She's just tired. She can sleep in the car on the way to the airport."

And so I do. After saying good bye to Esme and Alice and assuring them both I'm fine, that I'll stay fine, and letting a bit of Alice's confidence and unspoken assurance ground me. Jasper is with Charlie, whom I speak to on the phone while trying not to cry as his sleep gravelly voice assures me he's well and that he'll see me soon. He tells me Jasper has offered to show him a few chess moves guaranteed to give Edward a run for his money when he gets to Alaska. I hadn't even realized that he knew how to play chess in the first place.

. . . . . .

Seattle airport is a haze. People rushing, and yet to me seeming to move in slow motion, are everywhere. I lean against Edward, dizzy and disoriented, wondering where everyone is going in such a hurry. His cool lips brush the top of my head and I sigh, wishing we were already there and alone. There is too much noise and confusion here. I blush, thinking of last night and wondering if Edward will do what he did to me last night again.

I really want him to do that again. Soon.

I can hear Carlisle talking in a firm voice to a woman behind a desk who's frowning at him. Rose mutters a disdainful 'idiot' in reaction to whatever she hears, while scowling beautifully at the people who pass by looking at her with equal expressions of awe and nervousness.

Emmett shoves his hands in his pockets grunting in irritation as I hear Carlisle raise his voice, though the words are too slippery for my ears to hold onto. Across the large room I see a small gift shop tucked into the corner and the shelf overflowing with books calls my name. On feet that feel slightly leaden, I drift out of the hard plastic chair that has been making my spine ache and gravitate in that direction thinking something to read on the plane might be nice. The words on the spines blur and blend together so that I find myself making choices based on the pictures. A woman, looking up at a large blue moon, a child on a swing, an ancient looking castle in ruins. I don't spend any time wondering why they appeal to me or whether the pictures will match the stories found beneath their colourful images.

The candy section calls my name next. More colourful wrappers, a package of gum with smiling twins holding hands against a background of soothing green. The shiny foil wrappers elude my fingers as my mouth waters at the minty fragrance wafting from them. Cool fingers touch mine and deftly unwrap one of the sticks, holding it out to me. I look up to see Edward smile softly and realize he's been with me the entire time. In his free hand he's easily balancing the books I'd chosen, the candy stacked carefully on top. More candy than I can possibly eat and not get sick from. The gum tastes sweet and fresh.

A sparkling silver pen with a white poof of feathery, silly, softness jutting from its cap catches my eye and I pick it up, twirling it by clasping it between my palms and rubbing them together. The action is oddly soothing and familiar, and it makes me smile.

Edward asks me something, but I'm not entirely sure what. I shake my head at him and he holds out his hand for the pen. I give it to him and instantly feel sad at its loss sullenly wishing I could keep it.

. . . . . .

"How long does it take to get to Alaska?" I ask, watching the thick clouds outside of the planes window turn to a soft mist that is easily sliced through by the planes white wings. I should probably be upset that I don't remember getting on the plane, but I can't find the energy to care. I look away from the mesmerizing clouds and find Edward sitting beside me.

"A little over two hours," he answers quietly. "But we're almost half way there, love." Something about the way he speaks, his tone so patient and kind makes me think this isn't the first time I've asked him this question.

From somewhere Carlisle appears, his movie star handsome features fixed in kindness as he holds out a small cup of water and another with several pills in a multitude of colours, like tiny candies in a dish. I swallow them without question, though I'm pretty sure I'd normally argue. When I've swallowed them all, Edward reaches out and lifts the armrest between us and holds out his arms in invitation. I settle back against him with a small sound of contentment while Carlisle covers me with a cream coloured blanket that is way too soft and luxurious to be standard airline material.

"What airline is this?" I ask as Edward's strong cold arms secure me to him.

"It's a private charter, love."

"Oh."

Carlisle reaches for my hand and I watch disinterestedly as his fingers fix over my pulse point. There's a magazine on the small table affixed to the chair he's sitting in. Cosmo. I read the caption splashed over the right hand side of the glossy cover, the block letters coloured in brilliant lipstick red.

77 Sex Position in 77 Days.

"Do you want your magazine back?" Edward asks.

My magazine? I never read Cosmo. I never read magazines period, but Cosmo is embarrassing. I must nod or reply in some way because he places the slick pages back in my hand and I trace the number 77 with the tip of my finger. "How many of these do you suppose would be possible for us?" I ask curiously, trying to focus enough to find the page number in the index.

I can feel the vibrations of Edward's quiet laugh straight through my spine. When I look up wondering what is so funny, I'd meant the question seriously after all, I see Carlisle bent over my wrist with a smile tilting up the corners of his mouth.

"Sorry, Carlisle," I say with a blush. "Forgot you were there."

"That's okay, Bella," he answers, patting my hand before releasing it. When he stands I catch a look between him and Edward that I don't quite understand. Despite my amusing blunder of a question, neither one of them looks amused. They mostly look worried.

. . . . . .

Riding in the monstrosity of a Hummer over the rough unpaved road that is enclosed on both sides by the Denali National Park forest is surprisingly comfortable. Like in Forks, I'm surrounded by a never ending sea of green. I'd half expected snow and find myself slightly disappointed, which is silly. I'd known there wouldn't be any here this time of year.

Rose is pointing out different landmarks, but it all looks the same to me.

. . . . . .

_"We have a house in Alaska, Bella."_

I snort at the memory of Edward's words. A house? This is not a house.

"It's a Ski Chalet," Emmett says with a laugh, holding out his hand to me so I can climb out of the ridiculously large vehicle. "Or it was, back in the fifties before Esme got her hands on it." He gives up on the more gentlemanly way of helping me and secures his large, cold hands around my waist, lifting me out of the truck like he's plucking a feather off the ground. He keeps his hands there even when my feet touch the ground, and I'm grateful because the joints in my knees are stiff and sore and weak. I close my eyes because I'm dizzy, but also because the house, _the Chalet_, is just too much. Huge, built solely of logs and timber with elaborate balconies and the Cullen penchant for floor to ceiling windows, it's all a bit overwhelming. For some reason I'd had a mental picture in my mind for months of a rustic quaint cabin. Now I know how ridiculous that was. These vampires don't do rustic, or quaint. The thought makes me smile internally even as the internal spinning continues making me feel green.

"Uh, Edward? Come and get your wife. She looks like she might be about to toss her cookies, which no offense, is gross and something I don't really want to see."

Something that sounds like two rocks pounding together rings in my ears and I'm pretty sure Rose has cuffed Emmett across the head.

"It's okay, Emmett," I say with a sigh, forcing my eyes open. "I haven't eaten any cookies today."

. . . . . .

The house, _Chalet_, is even more beautiful inside. A gorgeous, grand staircase sweeps up out of a great room stuffed with big comfortable looking couches and chairs that appear as if they'd swallow you whole. Huge squishy pillows that still manage to look both invitingly comfortable and stylish add splashes of vibrancy to a mostly neutral palate of colours. Light spills in from every angle, showing gleaming hardwood floors sporadically covered in large area rugs in soft shades of beiges and creams and chocolates and burgundies. I'd like to see it all, but Carlisle is leading the way to a room that looks more like it belongs in a hospital than here in this beautiful restful place.

I can see the machinery and equipment that looks like state of the art diagnostic tools that must have cost a fortune, but none of them mean anything to me. I'd tripped over my own feet on the stairs and now Edward is carrying me. I don't mind, and my head instantly finds the hard nook between his shoulder and neck that seems made for me.

"I'm tired," I tell him, trying not to sound petulant and failing.

"I know," he answers. He sounds sad and lost, and I don't know why so I place a kiss on his adam's apple and hope it makes him feel a bit better. The taste and smell and feel of his skin under my mouth makes me feel better anyway...

"Close your eyes, Bella, and rest. Just a few tests. It won't take long, little one, I promise." Carlisle takes me from Edward and I don't protest. Surprisingly, he has the exact same nook as Edward.

. . . . . .

"I'm finished," I tell Edward with a yawn, handing him the bowl of soup I'd somehow managed to mostly finish. He's lit a fire in the fireplace. The fireplace that is in our room. No, not room I remember. Our suite. Everyone has their own he'd told me, but I haven't seen them yet. I don't think.

The windows all have the same metal shutters just like their other house, and Edward has closed them, sealing out the light so I can't tell what time it is. It seems like forever since we'd left Forks.

When Edward turns and leaves with the bowl, I push aside the blanket and slip off the comfy sofa in our personal sitting room that is twice the size of the living room in Charlie's house. I banish the mental pictures of that room as quickly as they come, fighting the wave of emotions they bring and striving to stay calm. The marijuana is helping, just as Alice had said. Edward had given me some before I ate, once again holding me and passing the smoke from his mouth to mine like vaporous herbal kisses.

There are pictures on the mantel above the fireplace and I move toward them. One of them is of Edward and me taken just after we'd gotten engaged. I can see my engagement ring where my hand rested on his chest. We'd been laughing at something. I don't remember what, but we look happy, peaceful.

I have to look away.

Across the room I see a white bag with the gift shop logo on it from the airport. It's full of books and candy, and as I rummage through the contents I find a pen.

It's sparkly and silver, with a funny little pouf of feathery fuzz jutting out of the cap. I twirl it and smile as the fuzz blows out in the air currents my actions create. When I look up, Edward is back, leaning against the door frame and watching me. I realize that while it's not physically possible he looks tired, the same way I feel. He also looks sad.

Rising, grateful when my legs don't shake and my equilibrium stays stable, I walk to him and slip my arms around his neck while rising on tip toe to kiss his mouth.

"Thank you," I murmur against his cold lips, tasting his breath, the sweetness still laced with the smoke.

He seems surprised. "For what?"

I hold up the pen. "For this." I lean against his chest sighing when his arms come around me. My anchor and my strength, even when I don't have much of my own. Stroking the silky fluff between my fingers, I smile. "It was sweet of you to buy it for me."

"You seemed to like it," he answers, and I can feel the tension in him, hear the uncertainty in his tone and I know it has something to do with all the holes in my memory of this day.

"I did," I tell him with quiet assurance, and I feel him relax while his arms tighten around me. I tilt my head up and smile, hoping he'll do the same and loving when he does.


	46. Chapter 46

A/N There was some confusion last chapter regarding Bella's confused mental state and the reasons for it and also some confusion about whether or not she remembered the 'fluffy' pen. Hopefully this chapter clears this up.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. As always you guys are the best, please keep them coming. I can't tell you the incentive they give me to keep writing. Trust me that it is huge. I wasn't able to respond to everyone last time but please know I read and often re-read every last one. :-)

Once again, my apologies for any errors found in this chapter, they're all mine and no fault of my beta Octoberland. I'm flying solo here so apostrophe and to and too errors are pretty much a given despite my best intentions and efforts. They slip by me all the time, damn things. This is why 'real' writers have editors. :( I just suck at doing it myself.

* * *

Chapter 46 A Time for Letting Go

**Charlie's POV**

After hanging up the phone with Bella I close my eyes and try to understand the uneasy feeling the phone call left me with. Her voice had been off, but it's more than that, something I'm picking up maybe that has nothing to do with anything she said or the way she said it. It comes to me slowly. It's all just more of the same. More of what I'd already seen from her.

"You're worried."

I open my eyes and look at my latest keeper slash bodyguard. His odd gold eyes stare at me with such intensity it's unnerving and it makes me look away.

"Bella sounded..." What? What did she sound like? Tired? Distracted? Yes, both of those, but something more. Weak, I realize. She sounded weak.

"Bella is struggling, you know this."

"Yeah, struggling works," I mutter, running my hands over my face some more and remembering that isn't the first time I've heard that word used to describe her.

"You need to stop worrying so much; it isn't good for your recovery."

I suddenly feel calmer and almost sleepy. I blink wearily before narrowing my eyes at him. "Don't do that hocus pocus thing on me."

He smiles, amused, but the feeling lifts. "There is little you can do to change Bella's circumstances. She is in good hands. In time, everything will work out."

"Is that coming from you, or Alice?"

He laughs, the sound, like church choir bells, even has a damn nurse stopping in the doorway with her mouth open. She turns red around the ears when I look at her and quickly moves on. He doesn't give any indication he'd seen the nurse, though I doubt he misses much.

"My wife is very good at what she does, Chief Swan, but it's more than that. I have faith, in Carlisle, in Edward, but mostly in Bella herself. She's strong, stronger in fact than anyone I've ever met."

"She is tough as nails, but this? This isn't something strong gets you through."

"Isn't it?" He smiles again and fixes the slightly skewed seam of his jeans. "You don't see what I see then."

"What don't I see?"

He looks at me like he's debating the answer. "You've come to understand the love between Bella and Edward, but what you still don't fully understand is the connection and power behind it."

He's right, I don't. I get that what is between them is something I underestimated, and that it sure as hell is something different than anything I've ever had in my life, but to say I understand it? No, that'd be a stretch I haven't quite been able to make.

"The bond between a vampire and his mate is not comparable to human love. It is unbreakable, irrevocable, never changing, never faltering. They cannot be separated, it's just that simple."

I stare at him, his words echoing in my head, bobbing around like fishing lures. "I get they don't want to be apart, that they seem to need each other like air or water or...uh..."

"Blood?" he provides with a definite smirk now. I scowl at him with my best intimidating and disapproving look. I've made more than a few cocky buggers sorry for the lip with that look, but his smirk only gets bigger. It relents after a second and he tries to look repentant. It doesn't work.

"You said the bond between a... between Edward and her isn't breakable, but Bella's still... She isn't what he is. If she...if something happens to her, there's nothing he can do..." Jesus. When the hell did I lose the ability to form simple damn words? Except none of these words are simple are they? I don't get the whole, 'changing' thing, but I do know dead is dead, and according to Carlisle not even he can change that.

Jasper stands up and goes to the window, with his hands in his pockets. I can see his reflection in the glass since it's not yet morning and the dim lights in the room turn the window into a mirror. For a minute he looks completely unreal. Stone still and quiet, and though I don't take much stock in noticing men, beautiful. Like a painting or a sculpture in one of those museums Renee used to drag me too. I can't help but stare and be reminded of a circus I once went to as a kid where they had a so-called snake charmer. I'd stood there in the hot, humid heat of a summer afternoon and watched that snake poke its head out of a basket. The sight made my insides turn to mush and I'd broken out in a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the heat. I'd never liked snakes, still don't, but I hadn't been able to look away, or move. I'd stood there rooted to the spot, watching that damn flared head come farther and farther out of that basket and thinking to myself that is was kind of beautiful. Then remembering that I'd read somewhere what that venom could do to you. You could get hypnotized by that beauty, but you'd be damned stupid to forget what it was capable of.

He starts to speak and it breaks the spell. Somehow I'm not surprised to feel the same sweat on my forehead and hands as I had that day so many years ago.

"Before I met Alice, I was a very different...person." He smiles, probably thinking it's funny that he's using the word person instead of the right one, and moves away from the window. Picking up the water jug on the hospital table he looks inside and shakes it slightly, listening to the ice rattle around inside. Tipping it, he holds out his palm and catches one of the square shapes before replacing the jug on the table. I don't miss the fact the ice doesn't melt at all in his fingers as he spins it between them.

"I was lost. I existed, but only barely. I was sick of death. Sick of myself."

I shift in the bed, uncomfortable with the things I can see in my head. Yeah, way too many horror movies as a kid. He notices and drops the ice cube into a cup, giving me a look I think he means to be apologetic before sitting back down.

"Then I met Alice," he says with one of the first real smiles I've seen from him.

"Alice is something else," I tell him, swallowing past the lump in my throat, needing to say something but meaning it wholeheartedly. Even knowing what she is hasn't changed the way I feel about her. She's her own kind of light that one.

"Yes, she is." He arches an eyebrow giving me a look I think might be a warning, but it's gone to fast to be sure. He has got nothing to worry about and I think he knows it. Despite _what_ she is and how _old_ she probably is, I only see a young girl. Still, it reminds me enough of the protective possessive way Edward looks at Bella to know he knows exactly what he's talking about when he says love is different for them.

"She changed everything for me. Gave me a reason to change who I was, one more solid and substantial than just hating the misery my life had become. She saved me from emptiness, completed me. To spend even these few short hours without her presence is painful, not just for me but her as well."

I start at that, feeling instantly guilty. The feeling goes away before I can really get a handle on it though. I know it's his doing and he confirms it with what he says next.

"You don't need to feel that way. I dislike being away from her, but trust me, there is nowhere else I want to be but right here, right now."

I blink at him stupidly because that makes no sense to me. "But you just said it was painful."

"It is," he chuckles lightly. "But Alice wants me here, and whatever she wants I will move heaven and earth to give her. Even if it is uncomfortable."

"But you said it hurts her too," I remind him gruffly. Despite his taking away the feeling of guilt at him being forced to play babysitter, my pride is still stinging. I've never been a burden, not since I was old enough to walk and talk and do things for myself. I'll be damned if I start now.

"That comes with the territory of being mated. The small amount of pain at being separated is more than worth the joy of the reunion, Chief." He winks and laughs again. "I assure you of that. So perhaps I should be saying, thank you?"

I snort a bit at that and shake my head. His face settles back to a more serious look quickly.

"My point is separation temporarily is doable. A few hours, even a few days. Anything more? Well, let's just say it isn't advisable, or really even possible. Bella may not be a vampire, yet," he tacks on the yet with a hard emphasis, "but you saw for yourself what happened to her when Edward left. Did you ever ask yourself where she found the strength to pull herself out of the darkness that consumed her in the beginning?"

Jacob, I think, but I don't say the name out loud and my hands fist in the sheets so hard my fingers hurt.

"I know for a long time she thought it was Jacob Black who saved her," he says, not having my same compunction about saying the name, but still putting a sneer on it that shows his dislike easily. "But I have my own theory. I believe what saved her is that deep down she knew that Edward lied to her about not wanting her. I think deep down she knew they were meant to be. Fated even, if you believe in such things. So she survived, though just barely from what I've seen of those days. She survived so she'd be there for him when he came back to her. It may have been a subconscious knowledge, but it was there."

"That was months. You said days weren't possible."

"True, but she is, as you mentioned, still human. It's what saved her, as I assure you that what my brother suffered in those months apart from her was an agony the likes of which I've never felt." He taps his temple and his chest, showing his mind and his heart. "And I can tell you. I've felt a lot in my time. I couldn't be anywhere near him without it crippling me."

Maybe he sees some kind of scepticism on my face or maybe he just feels it. All I have is the memory of Bella suffering and though I understand now why he left, even though I respect _why_ he left, it doesn't change that I hate how hurt she was. How lost. I can't imagine anyone suffering more than she did and I have the echoes of her screams night after night ringing through my head to prove it. Whatever it is, he leans forward his eyes hard.

"He didn't feed at all for months. You'd have no imaginative realm for the physical pain of the thirst we bear. Denying it makes it worse, makes it grow and grow until you become nothing but pain itself. And still that feeling, that agony was nothing in comparison to how broken and lost he was. How unendingly sad and alone..." He trails off. I can see the ghost of things he's remembering washing over him. After a second he shakes it away and settles back in the chair. "I won't tell you all of it. But know it was not pretty, and it was very nearly the end of him." His smirk comes back. "Not an easy feat for our kind, finding an end."

For a while I contemplate everything he's said, trying to find the message he's obviously trying to give to me, the meaning of which I doubt is that Edward has suffered too. No, it's more than that. After a bit my eyes get tired and heavy and I have to fight to stay awake. I'm still as weak as a damn baby it and it seems I need as many naps as one as well.

"So what are you saying, Jasper. Spell it out for me, I'm tired and my head still isn't wrapping around all of this well at all." I grouch. "I just keep coming back to the fact that Bella isn't getting any better. If her voice was telling me anything she's getting worse. If she...can't get better..." I leave the rest hanging, he knows what I mean. I turn my head to look at him again, not surprised to see he hasn't moved at all. He's just been giving me time to process.

"She will get better."

"What if she can't, damn it."

"You didn't let me finish." He waits for a second while I huff like a steam engine, stewing and frustrated and trying to glare holes in the damn ceiling. "She will get better," he repeats patiently, then quickly adds, "or, she'll tell Edward she cannot and he'll change her sooner rather than later."

I think about that for another minute, this time looking at the window and the beginnings of light I can see starting outside. "Bella's stubborn, she might wait too long, try too hard, or her body could just give up on her..."

"You still don't get it, do you?" Jasper asks and I look back at him. He smiles a bit to take the sting out of his words, obviously not meaning to offend me. "Edward cannot exist in a world without her. Just as I cannot exist in a world without Alice, or Emmett without Rose, Carlisle without Esme. Bella knows this; she understands what losing her would do to him." He smiles again. "And so it's simple." He holds his hands out, palms up, elbows resting on the arms of the chair like some kind of beautiful scary Sherlock Holmes about to yell that it's all elementary in those old black and white movies I watched as a kid. "She survived for him once before. She'll do it again, because just as I will suffer any pain to do Alice's bidding, just as Edward would suffer any pain to protect Bella, so too will she. Nothing, not even death will stop her from staying with him."

I turn my eyes back to the ceiling thinking about what he's said. All of it. And I realize the truth of it. It's been there all along, from the moment she met him and I watched something previously unrecognizable come over her. As if she'd finally come alive for the first time. Then I'd watched as the months passed, seen it in the way they moved together, in sync, always in sync. How many times had I watched him leave the house only to wake up in the middle of the night certain I'd heard him? The low murmur of his voice, a humming song that even now I can catch fragments of in my head though I've never heard it again on any radio or CD or TV show. The sound of it soothing enough to keep me from waking up enough to check it out, hearing it follow me back into my dreams as I fell asleep again. Had he been there every night? Yes, I think he had, it would make sense now, he wouldn't have been able to leave her, and she wouldn't have been able to sleep without him, not restfully anyway. I know that better than anyone. When he left I stopped hearing those snippets of that song, and started hearing my daughter scream in fear and pain every night...

"What would you do if you lost Alice?" I ask Jasper, turning my head to study his face. I'm good at that and though he answers he doesn't have to. It's as plain as day in the way everything about him changes and the way his eyes turn black though a second ago they'd been as gold as a lion's.

"First I'd destroy whoever took her away from me, slowly, painfully. And then? I'd destroy myself."

I turn back to the ceiling again unable to handle the intensity of his stare. I count the squares of the tiles and wonder about a life without my daughter. So much has changed about who I am since that night when it all went to hell. I'm not the same man. I'd proved that when I went after..._him_. I can feel bits and pieces of the old Charlie Swan coming back though. I can imagine myself now, sitting at my old desk at the station again, doing things I'd always done and feeling good about them, about my job, about me. If I ever want to get there I have to let go of the anger, the bitterness. I'm almost there already.

But not just yet...

"Do you know where...he...Do you know where, Jacob Black is now?"

"No. He ran. For a time the Pack tried to keep track, but he's cut all ties, given the Alpha role back to Sam Uley. Last sighting of him had him heading deep into Canadian wilderness. He wasn't in the best shape when he left, so we have no way of knowing if he's even alive."

"Promise me something," I ask, though it doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like an order. "If he's still out there..."

"You don't have to ask," he answers and his voice sounds as dark as his eyes and I know he can feel everything I'm feeling. If Bella doesn't make it there will be hell to pay with Edward leading the way and his family right behind him. If Forks is left standing in the aftermath it will be a miracle. I nod and lock the feelings up tight, closing the door on them for the last time. I won't think about revenge again. It's not who I am, not who my daughter would want me to be. And even though I'm no church goer, I have to believe there is order in the universe and a reason for everything. Whatever happens now it's out of my hands, and I'll be damned if I feel guilty for what might come down on the Reservation if I lose my daughter.

**Edward's POV**

Bella has been asleep for 14 hours. So she wouldn't get chilled I built a fire in the fireplace and added a blanket to the bed. Even then I didn't trust my cold body too close to hers, and yet if I moved too far away she whimpered and grew restless. So I stay beside her, one hand resting lightly on her hip as she lies on her side facing me.

Carlisle comes and goes, silently watching, his thoughts loudly trying to reassure me even as his demeanour stays quiet and watchful. His tests had revealed nothing conclusive. He thinks she might have suffered a mild stroke. Surely that would explain her confused mental state but physically she shows no other signs. Her blood pressure remains elevated, but the medication keeps it under control. Her pulse is too fast, but nothing dangerous in the short term.

In the long term? Well, I can't really worry about the long term.

As it is acute fear is my constant companion. I listen to her heart, to the air rushing through her airways, watch the rise and fall of her chest and count the precious seconds between each exhalation and inhalation. All the while hoping and praying to a God I doubt is listening.

Eventually Bella slips into a deep sleep, dreamless and heavy. I instantly miss her sleep-talking and yet rejoice at the rest she's finally getting. I move to a chair pulled close to the bed and she doesn't even stir this time.

It's dark when Carlisle comes in again. I ask him to build up the fire, afraid to leave her side in case I miss one single breath. The heat radiating from the fire has skewed the heating system of the room and I'm afraid she'll get chilled if I let it die completely. The fear is absurd really; the thermostat is set at a comfortable 24 degrees Celsius. If it slips any lower the furnace will kick on and the room will stay warm despite the cool night chill that has replaced a warm Alaskan late summer day.

He adds logs and watches the flames leap back to life before closing the glass doors and rising back to his feet.

"She's sleeping so deeply."

"Her body is exhausted, it's to be expected_." _He assures me._ Her pulse is steady. It's a little elevated but it's no more than it was before. She's trying to heal. Let her body do what it needs to do._ He finishes in his thoughts.

"She needs to eat, to drink."

"If she's still asleep in a few hours we'll wake her to get some fluids into her." _The human body is a miraculous thing, Edward. You know this. If she needs anything it will wake her._

I lapse back into silence and after a few minutes he leaves again, resting one hand on my shoulder briefly in passing.

I barely feel it.

. . . . . .

Carlisle is right. Two hours later she wakes on her own. I slip back onto the bed and brush her sleep tangled hair from her face. She tells me she's thirsty and I get her a drink. She needs to use the bathroom and I help her from the bed, though she pushes me away sternly at the door. I pace outside of it nervously, worried that she'll stumble and hurt herself. She seems barely awake and her coordination is lacking at the best of times.

She comes out unscathed and yawning widely. Just the trip from the bed to the washroom has made her pale and she allows me to carry her back to bed without complaint. Once there she burrows back into the covers and reaches out with one hand to pat my face.

"I'm fine," she mumbles, already almost asleep.

. . . . . .

I stay by her side, and then move back to the chair. Carlisle returns and re-stokes the fire without my having to ask. Wakes her briefly for medication and a little more water. He thinks her color is better and when she holds the glass her hand isn't shaking as much as it was this morning.

This morning. Barely an entire day has passed since our wedding. It feels like a lifetime.

Near dawn she calls for Charlie sounding like a small, lost little girl. When the sun rises and chases away the last of the night she calls my name and sounds like a woman, lips curving in a secret smile.

. . . . . .

"It's almost noon, Carlisle." I yank my fingers through my hair for the thousandth time and pace silently at the end of Bella's bed. _Our bed_. She's still asleep. A beautiful, silent, sleeping beauty that I want more than anything to awaken with a kiss and start the fairytale happily ever after that has so far eluded us. Perhaps I want too much, dared to ask for too much.

Maybe this is my punishment.

"Let her sleep, Edward. You know this is what she needs."

I do.

And yet I don't

She's so silent. Six hours without a sound since she'd called my name so sweetly, so breathily. The silence claws at me, her stillness drags me into despair. I need to hear her voice...

. . . . . .

Bella has been asleep for almost 24 hours. Only waking that one time. I've stopped my ceaseless pacing and returned to the chair. It's easier to count the seconds between her inhalations and exhalations from here. I multiply it with the fluttering of her eyelashes, divide it with twitch of her sleep logged muscles, and add to the total the number of times she sighs.

When Carlisle returns this time, I'm calmer, but no less afraid. In my hands is the absurd looking little pen Bella had been so enamoured with at the airport gift shop. I twirl it between my palms the way she had, watching the cap of ridiculous fuzz fluff out in response.

"She remembered the pen from the gift shop," I tell him. "I didn't think she would but when I told her that she'd seemed to like it, she said, 'I did'."

"That's a good sign that her confusion and memory loss are only temporary."

"Yes," I answer, because really, anything else is unthinkable.

. . . . . .

At hour 27 Rose slips silently into the room and brushes her hand over Bella's hair. It's only the slightest of touches and I'm surprised at what Rose picks up in its briefness. I'm still not used to this Rose, with this gift. I'm not surprised however that she views it as a nuisance. One more thing in this life she didn't ask for, and doesn't want.

She passes behind me and cuffs me hard on the back of the head. "She's fine." Her voice is an impatient hiss but the hand that had hit me drops to rest on my shoulder and she squeezes gently. "She's fine," she repeats softer now, and I believe her completely. The ache in my gut eases and then she cuffs me again, harder this time and so quick I don't have time to react. "Idiot," she mutters, leaving the room, continuing a diatribe of insults each one more colourful than the last. It isn't enough to erase the concern that had driven her to come into the room in the first place. Or the fact that her touch had shown me not only Bella's peace in this moment, but her own feelings for the sister she'd declared for so long that she did not want.

"Do you know how loved you are?" I ask the reason for my existence at a sound level she has no ability to hear even if she was awake.

_She does_, Rose answers from the other room. _But you're still an idiot._

. . . . . .

Bella wakes up after 32 hours. She's groggy but when I kiss her forehead and whisper good afternoon, she smiles at me and finally, finally, I can breathe again.

I'd never even realized I'd stopped.

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

We've been in Alaska for a week and a half and slowly, every day, I feel more like myself. More like the old Bella, though not exactly the same. I doubt I'll ever be the same. Surprisingly I think I'm okay with that.

I still have nightmares. I still forget things and feel confused and overwhelmed easily. Some days I feel like my Mother's daughter, scatterbrained and unfocused. It makes me smile even while it drives me insane. Edward is ridiculously patient.

Case in point, I'm currently sitting in his lap and we're in front of his computer. He's scrolling through lists of the Cullen's assets, stocks, investments, holdings, overseas bank accounts with encrypted pass codes and aliases. In my best before day I would have never been able to keep track of all of this and the monetary amounts boggle my mind. That I'd ever balked at Edward buying me a car now seems foolish and childish. He could buy me an entire fleet of Lamborghini's and not make a dent in his bottom line. His personal worth, separate from all the joint holdings and accounts, is a number that simply will not stay in my mind.

"So are you worth more than Bill Gates?" I ask, interrupting a mild rant having something to do with the current stock market woes that Alice thankfully navigates. Astutely protecting their fortune by, ironically enough, fortune telling. "Never mind, don't answer," I sigh. I'm already on overload as it is.

I blink tiredly and then rest my head against his shoulder. He shuts down the computer and shifts his body so that he can run one hand up my back and under my hair, massaging the nape of my neck with cool steel fingers. I moan a little in approval.

"I'll never remember all this," I tell him. It's hard to care though. Not when his fingers are working such magic on that spot of pain at the base of my skull I can't seem to shake no matter how many pills Carlisle gives me. Or how many times I indulge in the alternative therapy Edward helps administer several times a day. At first I'd been certain it was the marijuana that was making me confused, so I'd started refusing it. That lasted all of two days. By the beginning of the third Edward found me lying on the bathroom floor trying to press my head into the cold ceramic tile floor for relief, the futile effort broken only by the need to sit up and throw up everything I've eaten since the beginning of... _my life_. Needless to say I was back to being a regular user, only slightly comforted by the fact the confusion and fuzzy headedness continues to lift despite the weed. Actually I probably feel clearer headed after a toke.

I smile a little at my new vernaculars of a drug user, and Edward kisses the corner of my mouth.

"What's so amusing?" he asks.

"Nothing, just thinking."

"You don't need to worry about all this," he tells me, pointing a finger at the now dark computer screen. "You remember the pass code to your personal accounts, correct?"

It had taken me a few extra hours, but the numbers are now ingrained in my head so I nod. Isabella Marie Cullen is now a millionaire. So is Bella Masen, Bella swan, Isabella Baker, Marie Smith-Wong. I have passports and driver licenses to back up everyone of my new names, all of them linked to Edward's. The alias Edward Long Wong amused me so much I'd spent an entire half hour smiling while Edward rolled his eyes every time I spoke the name out loud. He'd growled at me to be grateful the name wasn't Dong. Apparently Emmett had been in charge of picking that particular name and only a small typo had prevented Edward from walking around with the name Edward Long Dong in the summer of 1977.

"Will we change our names often?" I ask quietly. Over the last week, little by little, Edward has tried to prepare me for the way our lives will be after my change. An event that still lingers in an unknown time frame.

"No," he replies, just as quietly. "These names are only in the event of emergency and a way to diversify our funds. Mostly we stay with the Cullen name. It's not difficult to falsify records just enough that our lives in one place don't meet in another. Edward Cullen of Forks Washington is a separate person from Edward Cullen of Gisborne New Zealand."

I nod again. I'm feeling a bit tired and overwhelmed, something that happens easily nowadays. Edward's hand shifts from my neck to my back, finding a new point of tension and working the little knot out gently.

"You don't need to worry, Bella. In another century it will all be second nature to you." I don't miss the hint of sadness in his voice. Twisting more fully to face him, I take his face between my hands.

"I don't need to worry because I will always have you, helping me figure it all out."

"Yes, you will." He smiles and I kiss him. He kisses me back for a moment but it doesn't last nearly long enough before he's pulling away gently, rising to his feet and carefully placing me on mine. I scowl at him but he pretends not to notice.

We still haven't had sex, _any_ _kind_ of sex since we'd arrived in Alaska. I know why. He's terrified. It's apparent in everything he does and the way he watches me all the time as though I might just collapse or vanish before his eyes. I swear he's been counting my breathing though of course I can't be sure. I haven't really pushed him. I want him the same as I always have with an ache that just won't go away, but as much as he sees me as fragile I almost see him the same way right now. He's been stretched tight like a rubber band and I keep wondering when it will snap because surely not even a vampire can keep carrying around this much tension without losing it eventually. So as much as I want to make love with him, I don't push. I'm not the only fragile one right now and he's worth waiting for. I _know_ I'm fine, but until he knows it, I'll be as patient as I can be.

For a little while longer anyway.

**Edward's POV**

It's been two weeks. Two weeks since our wedding, two weeks since she'd collapsed... I still can't bring myself to spend any time remembering those moments. More than two weeks since the last time I'd fully made love to Bella. To my beautiful sexy _wife_. And therein lays the crux of my problem.

I want her, with a desire that completely defies reason and right and wrong. And I know that she wants me. She's been surprisingly patient, seeking out my attentions but not pushing me when I pull away. The disappointment on her face is something she tries every time to cover up, but I notice. Oh how I notice. I'd promised her nights full of lovemaking and delivered nothing but chaste kisses and careful embraces. I want to give her more, to give both of us more, but I am terrified her limited strength will be taxed setting back her recovery.

If her conversation with Carlisle that is taking place right this moment is any indication, she's running out of patience and I can hardly blame her. Our connection is screaming for the tangible link that occurs when we make love. We both need it, desperately. The book in my hand doesn't survive the sudden clench of my fingers as I hear her ask Carlisle if he thinks she's healthy enough for sex.

_They still aren't making love? I had thought they were not, but I'd hoped I was wrong and that maybe they were only waiting to be together when Rose and Emmett and I left the house to hunt._

Carlisle's thoughts shock me. Why on earth would he hope he was wrong?

"You're feeling well?" He asks Bella. I can see her through his eyes, blushing and nodding and biting her lip nervously.

"Yes. I mean the headaches are bad still, but the...stuff helps a lot." She grins a bit impishly, still not entirely comfortable with talking about the marijuana. "Otherwise I'm a little tired, but you said that was normal after everything and I've felt like I have more energy just in the last few days alone."

She's reclining slightly on the pillows in the window seat of Carlisle's study. A place that has become hers and hers alone. The large window has a beautiful view of the Denali woodlands and the small brook that runs west of the house. She has taken to reading there in the afternoons while Carlisle works on some research he's doing in neurosciences, his new found passion since Bella's collapse in the meadow. She seems to find his quiet company soothing and when she tires Carlisle often reads to her, their quiet conversations floating through the house like a gentle soothing hum.

The success of the marijuana in alleviating her symptoms has opened a curiosity in Bella's mind for other medicinal plants and remedies, and the book on her lap is proof of that. She keeps her thumb tucked inside the pages to mark her place and continues to worry her lip.

"If you're feeling well, then there is no reason why you and Edward cannot engage in intimacy, Bella. Are you concerned about it?"

"No, not me. But I think Edward is."

"Ah." Carlisle's thoughts turn to his research making it difficult to read him as I know he's intending. Nevertheless I catch a small reprimand about my knowing the impact of stressing Bella out at this time. He directly links intimacy with relaxation for my benefit alone before he fully fills his mind with other things. "Would you like me to speak with him?"

Bella looks up at him mortified, her reply of no quick and loud. "I just uh, wanted to ask. You know, to be sure for me." Her sentence reminds me of the fact that I'm supposed to be outside with Emmett, probably how she'd found the courage to ask Carlisle in the first place. Having invaded more of her privacy than I'd intended, I shelve the now half crushed book and leave the house. I hear Carlisle ask if she'd like him to read to her for a bit and watch her through his eyes as she nods tiredly and hands him her book. He settles in a chair by her side and begins listing the uses of Hamemelis, more commonly known as witch hazel, and I hurry out deeper into the surrounding wilderness until I find silence.

Its short lived. Emmett has sensed my presence and is speeding towards me like a canon ball from a canon. I brace myself for his impact, irritable enough to drive an elbow into his solar plexus the second he's close enough. He crumples to the ground, and I stagger from the force though still managing to keep my footing.

He's instantly back on his feet, laughing good naturedly. "I almost had you that time."

"Hardly," I mutter. "I could feel the ground shaking beneath my feet the second you started running. Your stealth is pathetic."

He laughs again louder this time and makes to punch my shoulder playfully. I block him and shove his fist and arm back hard enough it cracks against his shoulder.

"Ouch," he whines, rubbing the place his fist had made contact. "Man, what's your problem?" His face falls and his tone changes. "Shit, Bella's okay right?"

"She's fine," I snarl, a sudden urge to punch him at his mental imaginings of Bella falling to the floor and seizing like an epileptic with blood pouring from her mouth and ears... "_Stop_ doing that." He hadn't been in the meadow the day of our wedding and he's nothing if not imaginative.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." His mind becomes filled with Rose, and I snarl again at the image of my sister on her knees grinning up at him while she tugs his zipper down.

"Christ Emmett, for the love of..."

"Right, sorry, knee jerk reaction, uh...there. Better?" He starts reciting the statistics of his favourite video games, a list currently at nearly a hundred and I take a deep breath striving for patience. It isn't easy.

"You know, married life doesn't seem to be agreeing with you, bro." My eyes snap to his and he holds his hands up defensively. "Just saying. You'd think you'd be a little more relaxed now that you're getting some on a regular basis."

I growl in response and he shrugs. "What? I mean...Wait. Hold up. You are getting some right? I mean I know she's been a little weak but Carlisle said she was fine so I just assumed..."

"Emmett. Shut. Up!" My voice is hostile and loud, a growling snarl that makes the woods around us go silent where once birds had chirped loudly in the trees. "My sex life is none of your God damn business."

"Well hey, mine isn't any of yours either but you don't hear me complaining." He's attempting to be humorous and yet all I want to do is shut him up by tossing him into the nearest tree.

"Saying Bella has been 'a little weak' is an absurd understatement," I spit through gritted teeth.

"Well, yeah, at first, but she's been looking a lot better this last week, and Rose said..."

"I think I know my own mate better than Rose does. Her newfound abilities are going to her head, and yours." I bark. It isn't true when it comes to Rose, she still really does not like her so-called gift, but it is true with Emmett. He thinks it just makes Rose all that much more worship worthy. "She needs to mind her own business."

"Hey," Emmett barks back, his jovial tone vanishing in an instant. "Don't do that. We all care about Bella and you know it. Rose has just been trying to help. If Jasper was here would you be saying that shit, telling him to mind his own business?" He must see the instant remorse I feel for being so vile because his tone gets more understanding. "No, I doubt it. So don't bash on Rose, okay. I put up with enough of that as it is."

I nod, knowing I should apologize but finding it impossible to force the words out of my locked down throat. The small argument has just made my urge to smash something stronger and so I find the nearest tree and knock it down with one blow.

"IT'S JUST ALL SO FUCKED UP!" I roar at the top of my lungs, tilting my head up to the sky, latching on to the profanity to convey my utter disgust and rage. Maybe I'm yelling at God, maybe... "When does it stop? When does it get easier? How much harder do I have to fight for her? How much more do I have to suffer before I'm worthy of her? How much more does she have to suffer, for me, for this life? Isn't it enough of a curse all on its own? Does she have to hurt and be afraid and suffer, always suffer, just so she can burn alive for days and then wake up to _this_? I want to give her everything and all I can offer is a life always on the outside looking in. And look at how much she's had to pay already. When is it enough? I can't take anymore. I can't watch her hurt and yet I can't be anywhere but at her side. I'm just so...Tired. Of. All. This. Shit. I can't even make love to her. I spent two years being afraid I'd hurt her if we... Only to find out I could trust myself, that we could be together that way. And now? I'm right back to square God damned one! She's a thousand times more fragile now!"

I'm pacing now and more trees fall like dominoes until I've created a clearing nearly the size of the meadow in Forks. I start smashing the fallen trees until sawdust lays in piles covered by chunks of wood no bigger than kindling, and still it isn't enough. The trees might as well be made of Styrofoam for all the resistance they offer. I grab fistfuls of my own hair, my needless breathing panting in and out of my venom soaked mouth. I am trying to find sanity and self control when all I want to do is tear everything down around me.

"Well, you know. I did tell you to stay away from her because she wasn't one of us, but you wouldn't listen," Emmett snipes from his perch on one of my fallen trees that has so far escaped my wrath. "I mean Jesus, Edward. Only you would go and do something so screwed up as falling for a human. I don't even blame you for not having sex with her right now. It probably sucks right? Cause that whole thing about her being more fragile is bullshit and you have to know it. That little girl is strong as hell. But I mean, how can it be any good, she is _human_? I think I'd rather hump a..."

I get what he's doing. Even as I launch myself at him, I can hear his underlying thoughts trying to latch onto the perfect comment to make me snap. Emmett has always been the worst at hiding anything he's thinking. Not because he's less intelligent or capable, but merely because he really doesn't care all that much. He never thinks anything he wouldn't say, why go to all the effort to hide things that aren't secret? Still, the part of me that rationally realizes he's trying to provoke me could care less. I wanted something more substantial to beat down. Nothing and no one is more substantial than Emmett.

It lasts for over an hour. By the time we're done the clearing I've made is stripped clear of grass and plant life. Nothing more than dirt and mud where the deep furrows we've carved into the ground with our body's seeps water from underground springs. We are both covered in dirt and our clothes are torn. Despite Emmett's understanding that I needed to beat on something he'd shown no mercy. My shoulder aches where he'd separated the joint and torn it from my body. My leg throbs a little where he'd bent it so far backward it had cracked in a dozen places.

I'd relished every blow he delivered, maybe even more than the blows I'd delivered. A part of me had wanted pain. For all that Bella has suffered, physically I've remained unscathed. My psychological wounds may match some of hers, but many of those came from watching her physical suffering and never being able to do anything about it. If I could have, I would have taken her pain as my own, every bit of it. From the bruises and broken bones that made her ache relentlessly in the early days, to the illness, the fever, the freezing bath of ice water that must have felt similar to being skinned alive. The relentless headaches, the aching in her joints and muscles, the bone numbing fatigue she cannot seem to shake for any length of time. All of that are things I have no capacity for or even any real human memory of to judge for myself the depth of what she's gone through, what she continues to go through.

As Emmett and I run back to the house I feel lighter. Emmett rubs his own shoulder and grimaces, snorting at me when I shove him lightly into a tree. He pats my back hard.

"You know I didn't mean what I said right?"

"Yeah, I know."

He nods and shakes his head. "Man, did you have to bite me? Son of a bitching thing is going to sting for hours."

"I didn't bite you," I retort, rolling my eyes. "You shoved your fist in my mouth. My left molar is chipped."

"Yeah? Well you damn near kneed me in the nuts. Consider yourself lucky I only shoved my fist in your mouth. If I didn't want to make sure Bella could still get some use out of you, I'd have ripped off your..."

"Thanks. I get the picture."

Emmett stops and grins. I see Rose running towards us and her thoughts are happy to see him. It makes me smile despite the graphic images the thoughts come packaged in.

"Good. So don't make me regret it. Stop emoting and get to..." Rose leaps into his outstretched arms locking her legs around his waist and putting her hand over his mouth to stop him from speaking.

"Don't say it. They aren't anywhere near the point in their relationship where saying that wouldn't make poor Eddy blush like his little bride. Hell they probably never will be." She let's go of him and drops back to her feet glancing at me and laughing a little at my appearance. "Go home and take a shower, you smell like you had a dirt bath. Bella is sleeping in Carlisle's study and Alice called. She said Jasper and Esme and her will be bringing Charlie up tomorrow. Apparently he's gotten the green light to fly." She grabs Emmett's hand and begins dragging him off. "You smell like a dirt bath too. Let's go to the lake, I'll wash your back." They're gone a second later.

Back at the house I take the shower Rose recommended before going to scrape together something to tempt Bella's still lagging appetite. She joins me in the kitchen before I'm completely done and helps me. When I start whistling lightly she looks up in surprise.

"You're in a good mood." The surprised tone makes me feel instantly guilty at my behaviour as of late. Brushing the hair behind one of her tiny shell like ears, I kiss her cheek gently.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "for being such a downer as of late. I've been..."

"Worried about me?" She offers.

I sigh and step back, taking her plate and carrying it to the table. "Yes."

She sits down and picks up her fork, taking a tentative bite and then smiling in approval. My ventures at cooking for her are not always successful. "Maybe I should be the one apologizing, for making you so worried." Her brow furrows and she doesn't look up.

"Bella," I murmur tipping her face up to me. "It isn't your fault." I've said it a million times it seems but I'll happily say it a million more.

Nodding she studies my expression. "You're still worried about me," she deduces correctly.

"Yes," I tell her, knowing it's pointless to lie, she knows me too well.

"Then what's changed?"

Sighing, I move to the opposite chair from her and sit down. "I remembered your promise and one that I made to myself as well," I tell her with a smile.

"What promises?"

"You told me you'd tell me if it got to be too much. If you felt you couldn't hang on, you said you'd tell me and then I would change you, sooner rather than later. Do you remember?" It's possible she won't. She'd made the promise shortly after her collapse on our wedding day.

"I remember," she answers and her eyes are clear, her words certain.

"I'm going to trust in that, and in you," I whisper unable to find volume in the emotion those words make me feel. She is so precious, so brave and strong and I forget that, so often I forget that.

She smiles and reaches out to lay her hand over mine, allowing me to flip mine up and link our fingers together. "And the promise you made to yourself?" I don't need to read her mind to know she's happy I've decided to trust her with her own health.

"I promised myself I would never take another second of the time we have for granted. If it's a day left of you being human or a month, I want to enjoy it with you. I promised you things before we came, things I've been withholding because I was afraid. I said I'd spoil you, I've hardly done that have I?"

"Yes you have." Her fingers squeeze mine, probably using a good deal of her strength though it feels only like the caress of a butterfly's wings to me. "You've been wonderful. You're even cooking for me. Most of it I can eat too," she teases with a small grin.

I don't smile back, but raise her hand to kiss her fingers. "I've been treating you like a china doll," I mutter against her skin closing my eyes at the softness and scent. My anchor. Always she is my anchor.

She's quiet for a moment and I open my eyes to see if I can read her expression. She looks a little sad. "I guess I am like a china doll, Edward. It's no wonder you treat me like one."

"You're not though, love. You're my wife, you are my rock."

She smiles a little again and it's good. It doesn't quite reach her eyes the way her smiles once had, but I can see now that the time will come when they will again. I let go of her hand. "You are still human though, so you need to eat." She reaches to pick up her fork again. "Is there anything you'd like to do tonight?" The sun is just setting and through the window I can see it casting a soft orange glow across the sky. The temperature is already dropping and the furnace clicks on with its soft whoosh of warm air.

"Anything," she answers, reaching for her water and taking a small sip. "As long as it's with you."

"Why don't I go start us a fire? You can have a warm bath and then we can just stay in our room."

The fork pauses midway between her plate and her mouth and I see the pulse point in her neck pick up speed as she reacts to the velvet tone of my voice. She swallows though her mouth is empty.

"And um...do what exactly?"

"Hm," I hum thoughtfully, arching a brow and giving her a one sided smile. "Oh I don't know, Mrs. Cullen." I stand up and move to her side, bracing my hand on the table and leaning down to place a kiss over that rapid little throb beneath her ear. "But I'm sure we can think of something, don't you?"

* * *

A/N So hopefully that clears some things up. Bella wasn't confused because of the mj. She was confused because of the damage done by erecting the physical shield in the meadow. There is some link to stress, high blood pressure and strokes, although obviously I'm using a fair amount of creative license. Memory loss and confusion are common symptoms following a stroke. And also she did remember liking the pen in the gift shop. Edward comments that "she seemed to like it," and Bella answers that she "did". She just didn't realize Edward bought it for her. I was a little vague there, my apologies to anyone who may have gotten the wrong idea last chapter.


	47. Chapter 47

A/N Sorry for the delay on this chapter. It was beyond difficult to write this one, but hopefully the end result is worth my loss of hair. ;-)

Chapter has not been beta'd, sorry for any mistakes. Oh and FBR and DFE have both been nominated for Vampie awards. I'm beyond tickled. Thank you to Gammeee and Cella72 for nominating and to anyone else who took the time to nom my huge thanks to you as well. :) You guys are the best!

Disclaimer - Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight, including these characters and the line or two I've blatantly stolen. This chapter also contains parts of a poem by Emily Dickenson, and quotes from, For Whom the Bell Tolls, by the late great Ernest Hemingway, who left his genius in the written words that echo in my head long past the point where I've closed the covers of his books.

No copyright infringement is intended.

Warning. Lemony content ahead.

* * *

Chapter 47

**The Path to Forever**

**Edward's POV**

"_In the night he awoke and held her tight as though she were all of life and it was being taken away from him." Chapter 21, pg. 264 Ernest Hemingway. For Whom the Bell Tolls._

_. . . . . ._

We are a coven of vampires that revolve completely around two humans. The irony is not lost on me, and I smile often as I watch our days and nights unfold in succinct rhythm with their needs and patterns. That I can find reason to smile is testimony to my newly recommitted desire to fulfill my promises to my wife, and not a reflection of our current circumstances.

It's been two weeks since Charlie's arrival. At first weak and easily tired, he'd spent much of it sleeping and resting, monitored closely by Carlisle, and as of late, Emmett who has taken on Charlie's rehabilitation therapy with his usual wisecracking, jovial manner. Like all of us, Emmett has spent his fair share of time pursuing educational degrees, and one of his latest had been in kinesiology and sports medicine. He'd even spent some time several years back working as a physiotherapist alongside Rose in Columbia. His time spent there during the heart of several Monsoon seasons, aiding women and children suffering debilitating injuries after being caught in the crossfire of the drug lords and their constant wars, had changed him immensely. I see it now in the tireless patience with which he handles Bella's father, and the quick wit and humour that keeps the tedious, and at times painful exercises meant to strengthen him, from becoming overwhelming.

Today we are in the pool, an in-ground, indoor remnant from the days when this Lodge was more than a home. Esme had plans to eventually fill it in and convert the space to a greenhouse, but for now it was the perfect place to do what Rose snidely refers to as 'exercising the humans'. Condescending yes, but then Rose has never been one for tact. Despite her penchant for condescension, her actions often speak louder than her words, and her thoughts. Case in point, the pool being fit for human use is solely her idea and her doing. Though Charlie has benefitted most from its use and has been thriving under the exercise regimen Emmett devised, rapidly gaining back his strength and then some, Rose had done it for Bella. During a tour of the unseen portions of the Lodge on one of Bella's better days, she had told Rose that she'd loved to swim as a child. She had been smiling fondly at the memory of Renee taking her to the local, public pool for swimming lessons at the time, her expression almost wistful. Less than a few days later Rose had the pool repaired and filled, complete with a new heating system and special air vents in the ceiling that kept the water and room temperature balmy and warm, no matter the Alaskan climate.

As per usual, she'd feigned nonchalance at Bella's expression of awe, and shrugged off her questioning assumptions of the amount of work involved. With a vague eye roll she'd merely remarked that Emmett had been lamenting its unusable state, and she really had nothing better to do, stuck out here as we were. Her thoughts however, had given away her pleasure when Bella thanked her profusely. Just before leaving the room she'd paused at Bella's side where she sat at the pools edge, dangling her feet in the water. Very softly she placed a kiss on the top of her head, letting her fingers slip through Bella's hair and down her back.

I'd watched quietly, curious as always to this new bond between my wife and my inscrutable sister. Bella's eyes had fallen closed at Rose's touch, and Rose's had done the same. For a long moment neither moved, nor did they say a word. When Bella's lips turned up in a smile, Rose's did as well. She gave a gentle tug on Bella's hair before releasing her grip, her thoughts giving nothing away.

Those types of moments between them have become frequent as of late, and though I won't deny my curiosity, I've chosen not to pry. It's enough for me to note that Bella often seems more at peace in the aftermath. I will not deny Bella any peace, no matter the source, and Rose's newfound acceptance of both her gift and of Bella, ease my mind as well.

Today, Bella is once again at the side of the pool, her feet dangling in the water, ripples kissing her calves as she wiggles her toes. She watches Emmett working with Charlie, a slight frown wrinkling her brow as her Father does laps with growing endurance, his arms slicing strongly through the water. A week ago she'd been capable of keeping up with Charlie, the two of them pacing each other evenly. In the span of seven short days Charlie has almost doubled the number of laps he can do, and Emmett has to restrain him at times from overdoing. In contrast Bella has weakened and lost ground. A single lap tires her, and a second will leave her trembling and nearly ill from the exertion.

Slipping soundlessly into the water at her side, I grasp her ankles gently and she jumps, startled from her thoughts by my sudden appearance.

"Sorry," I tell her apologetically. "I didn't mean to startle you."

She smiles and slides her arms around my shoulders, allowing me to bring her down into the water. She shivers a little as her body registers the slight temperature difference between us. And it is slight today. I'd taken a few extra minutes after my hunt to duck into a quick but scalding hot shower so my skin would not carry the cold from outside. When she presses closer to me, I'm nearly the same temperature as the water.

"You're back," she breathes, pressing a kiss to my neck and wrapping her legs around my waist. Her hair is piled high on her head in a loose twist, making it easy for me to mimic her actions and place my own kiss on her delicate throat.

"Mm, yes. Did you miss me?" I tease gently. I hate leaving her for even the most necessary of actions, but keeping myself well sated has been something I've become fastidious about as of late. I've taken to hunting every third day, glutting myself on the abundance of prey I find close to home in this relatively untouched wilderness. The slight overindulgence has allowed me to fulfill all of my promises to spoil my wife, most importantly in the physical ways. Despite the growing weakness in her that Carlisle and I have been unable to prevent, nor even fully understand, it hasn't prevented us from being together. Though bloodlust has long since ceased to be a problem, I find it easier to control my strength and find the restraint I need to be intimate with Bella and not harm her when thirst is not an issue. She's even more fragile now than ever before. So much so that at times I am terrified that I will harm her, but not even that fear will prevent me from giving her all she desires, including myself. Not that performing my husbandly duties has been any kind of a chore...

Bella's arms and legs tighten around me and I feel her smile against my shoulder. "Miss you? No, I didn't miss you at all."

I chuckle and draw her deeper into the pool. "Well, I missed you, love."

"That's good."

She lifts her head and kisses me, the warmth of her mouth making me wish we were alone so I could show her just how much I'd missed her. I draw back from the temptation of her lips so that I can study her face. The dark shadows beneath her eyes are lighter now than they had been before I'd left this morning, indicating she'd been able to sleep a bit longer after I'd woken her to say good bye. Thanks to Emmett's sudden inspiration two weeks ago to tempt her failing appetite with high caloric milkshakes infused with vitamins and protein powder, she's even gained a few much needed pounds. Combined with the many hours she and I have spent in the mineral infused waters of the natural hot springs in our backyard, her skin now has a healthier glow about it. And the newest medication Carlisle is giving her has her seeming more alert and less drugged. All are things I cling to with iron determination. Positives in a sea of negatives. That she still suffers from headaches so brutal she can at times barely stand even the dimmest of lighting. That she is growing weaker and more easily fatigued with each passing day; those are the true indicators of her failing health, and the positives I cling to so desperately are nothing more than illusions.

I know I am running out of time, yet I cling just as desperately to every minute of every day that she can remain human and heal emotionally from the devastating damage done to her. Slowly, bit by bit, the clouds have been lifting from her eyes and her mind, and as long as that continues to happen I will fight to keep my fears at bay, and fight to keep her healthy enough to stay human.

"Alright, you two. Read the signs. No groping in the pool." Emmett interrupts us, moving to our sides with a flutter board and smacking it down on top of the water hard enough to splash us both. He points to the battered and aged signs he'd dragged out of the storage area in the basement. His favourite – I don't swim in your toilet please don't pee in my pool – is center stage on the wall along with one that depicts a stick couple entwined in a red circle with a line through it. He grins, ever the jokester, and I roll my eyes at him.

"Come on, Bella baby. Hop on." He indicates the board, patting it affectionately. "Time to exercise those gorgeous gams; cellulite is the enemy!" She rolls her eyes and for a brief second her arms and legs tighten around me. Then her gaze travels to her Father who is just finishing his last lap and she gamely takes the board, allowing Emmett to push her away from me. What had begun as exercise meant to strengthen her and Charlie both, has now turned to simpler motions for her. Ones that help her muscles stay limber and alleviate some of the near constant aching in her tender and inflamed joints. The inflammation is yet another physical ailment Carlisle can find no reason for, and one more reason why the clock is ticking relentlessly.

"Edward, get Pops started on his chest exercises will you? It's my turn to grope your wife for a bit."

"No groping, Emmett. It says so right there on the wall," Bella tells him, flicking water in his face with a small smile.

"Hurt her and you know what happens, brother mine," I tell him with a small warning glare. Emmett never intentionally causes her pain. In fact one could say he's easily just as terrified of hurting her as I am. Helping her through a series of gentle stretches daily has helped to alleviate some of the inflammation, making her small amount of discomfort worthwhile, but Emmett's mind never shuts off. His mental warnings and calculations of pressure that he recites in his head throughout have shown me that hurting her hurts him as well. He's beyond careful so my threats are unnecessary, but that doesn't make me less inclined to warn him every time.

From the side of the pool Charlie watches with a small, amused smirk as Emmett pushes Bella to the section of the pool where he can work with her uninterrupted, reciting a series of somewhat raunchy knock knock jokes.

"Hey, Bella?"

"Hey what, Emmett?"

"Knock, knock."

She sighs heavily, but responds as prompted. "Who's there?"

"Jenny Tull."

"Jenny Tull who?"

"Jenny Tull warts!" Emmett bursts out laughing, and Bella shakes her head.

"Gross, Emmett."

"Oh, come on. Admit it! That was a great one."

She smiles a little, rolling her eyes at me before letting go of the board and allowing Emmett to scoop her up. He places her feet against the side of the pool and encourages her to lie back, fully supporting her weight in the water.

"Okay, you gorgeous thing you. Plant those feet flat and bend those knees..."

"Emmett!" I snarl.

"What?" He laughs and waggles his eyebrows. "I just want her to stretch. Jeesh. Newlyweds. Always got their minds in the gutter."

Bella blushes and snarls a little herself at Emmett, glancing at Charlie nervously. For his part, Charlie just shakes his head, more than used to Emmett's rather ribald sense of humour even if he is still more than a little uncomfortable hearing it applied to the more intimate aspects of my relationship with his daughter.

"I'd apologize for my brother, Charlie, but as you've noticed it's a wasted effort."

Charlie snorts a little and shakes his head. "He sure likes to yank your chain, doesn't he?"

"That could be an understatement." I attach a set of bands to one of the bars installed at the side for hand holds and hold them out for him, offering him a small smile of commiseration. Charlie despises this exercise, though he's never once verbally complained. In a move very much like his daughter he rolls his eyes at me, knowing I'm aware of his discomfort through the invasive quality of my gift and not liking it. If I've discovered one thing over these past few weeks about my Father in law, it's that he has more than a healthy amount of pride. Because of the surgery to remove the bullet from his chest cavity and repair the damage its path through his body had caused, the exercises meant to strengthen his upper body come with the cost of a large amount of physical pain. He hides it well, from everyone but me.

Without any instruction Charlie immediately begins the series of vertical pulls, using his body weight and the drag of the water as resistance. Other than a small grimace and a few near silent grunts, nothing outside of the inner workings of his mind show just how uncomfortable he quickly becomes. His mind however, begins a litany of creatively placed together cuss words that would probably very much impress Emmett. I chuckle a little to let him know I hear him, and he switches to cataloguing fishing lures.

"Three sets of fifteen, Pops," Emmett yells. "Then break and repeat. Edward, watch the line of his back, make sure he doesn't curve his spine."

Charlie grunts and corrects the slight arch in his back himself. "So tell me, Edward. How's Bella doing? I mean, how's she really doing?"

I regard him quietly for a moment. My relationship with him has remained somewhat strained, even as he's grown closer to the other members of my family. Esme still awes him and makes him flustered, but when he can look past her beauty he enjoys sitting in the kitchen listening to her 'natter' as he calls it. He finds it soothing, reminding him of both the early days of his marriage to Renee, and to his childhood being surrounded by his Mother and Aunts. Alice brightens his days as well with her upbeat personality, amusing him with endless chatter and energy. Even Rose can become gregarious in his presence, and Charlie's sharp wit and mind engage her in conversations about cars and mechanics that can go on for hours. He's spent time with both Jasper and Carlisle, playing chess and proving himself a worthy adversary, and even a surprising conversationalist, very knowledgeable about current events and politics. And of course Emmett, who has somehow managed to become the one person Charlie feels the most comfortable with. I think at times he almost sees the son he never had, though his thoughts are so vague on the subject I can't be certain. When Emmett began calling him Pops, Charlie did seem to inflate just a little. Between that and their mutual love of sports, the two have formed a bond that surprises even Bella.

With all my attention firmly upon my wife and her well being, Charlie and I have spent little time together. And yet it is me he will seek out when he wants an honest answer about Bella's current health. He can see with his own eyes that she continues to struggle, but I made the decision shortly after he arrived that I would keep nothing from him should he choose to ask. It doesn't make the question any easier to answer.

"Emotionally, she is getting stronger. Physically she is getting weaker," I tell him, deciding that blunt honesty is best.

"Carlisle says he can't figure it out, why she isn't getting better." He leans against the side of the pool when his first set of exercises are complete, watching me with those eyes that miss nothing. "Not for lack of trying though, if all those hours he spends pouring over those giant books of his are any indication."

Checking the straps though it is hardly necessary, I shake my head at him, retying the ends. "We are both doing all we can, but the answers are not there to be found...I...wish..."

Charlie's hand suddenly clamps down on my shoulder. "Look at me, son."

I do as he asks, surprised to see the understanding on his face and in his mind. "I know you're doing everything you can," he says adamantly. "I _know_ you are."

"It isn't enough," I retort fiercely, closing my eyes briefly against the helpless frustration and misery I feel, not wanting to burden him with the fear in my eyes.

"Isn't it?" His question surprises me, and I look at him again.

"No!" My tone is low, but the anger in it has Emmett looking over at me in concern. Luckily Bella's back is to us and she doesn't notice. I shake my head imperceptibly at him and he nods, turning his attention back to her, his voice just a tad bit louder, keeping her attention on him and away from our conversation.

"Well. I'm no doctor, Edward," Charlie replies, his voice a bit softer as well. "I don't have the knowledge you and Carlisle have. I'm just a man, a cop, but I can tell you this. I've seen a lot in my life and in my profession. A lot of hurt people. A lot of hurt women. Victims of every kind of senseless, violent crime you can think of. Some of them heal, move on, but the scars are always there. Some of them..." He shakes his head, his mind full of nameless victims and their suffering.

"Three weeks ago, before you guys left Forks, I thought... _I was afraid_, that Bella might just end up like them. That maybe she wouldn't ever get over this, that maybe it broke something in her..." His eyes suddenly fill with tears and he grunts, releasing my shoulder and grabbing the straps, fisting them so hard the cords on his forearms stand out hard in ridges beneath his flesh. "She's always been such a constant little thing. So steadfast in her beliefs, and she loves with every ounce of her heart. What he did to her...she would have trusted him just as much as she loved him. I think a part of her never really forgave herself for hurting him, and he just...He played into that and I... When a man hurts a woman like that, it does something to them, changes everything they think and feel and believe." He turns back to the pool wall and grabs the ties harder, cursing under his breath. I give him a moment to collect his thoughts and eventually he turns back.

"I guess what I'm trying to say, is that if she didn't get better, I'd understand, because she's Bella, if that makes sense."

It does, and I nod with a small rueful smile. Those who trust the most, who love the hardest, often get hurt the worst.

"But she _is_ getting better. Hell, I can't get over the change in her, Edward. She's smiling again, looking around her and really seeing everything, not all hunched in on herself like she was." He sighs, staring at his hands in the water. "I see you two together, and the light is coming back in her eyes, and that's because of you. So don't say you aren't doing enough. Maybe she can't get better because of whatever this shield thing is. Maybe she'll just keep slipping downhill until..." He clears his throat hard and looks back up at me, his eyes sharp and knowing. "Well, then, so be it. It's what she wants anyway, right? And hell, regardless of what you feel is right or wrong; I know it's the right thing for both of you." He claps me hard on the shoulder again, and I know the conversation is over when he turns back and begins his second set of exercises, returning to his catalogue of fishing lures.

I stand still for a moment, feeling something foreign for this man rush over me. With hands as gentle as those I use on his daughter, I guide his shoulders into the proper position and squeeze them briefly in affection. "Thank you, Charlie."

His catalogue of lures breaks briefly. _You're welcome, son_, he thinks_. And F.Y.I. I'm only doing ten more of these. They hurt like a son of a bitch! I think your brother has a sadistic side. _

_Power hawg, red ripper, chug bug, devil's tongue, snapper slapper..._

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

"_There is only now and if now is only two days, then two days is your life and everything in it will be in proportion. This is how you live a life in two days. And if you stop complaining and asking for what you will never get, you will have a good life." (p. 167) Ernest Hemingway. For Whom the Bell Tolls._

_. . . . . . _

Moving down the hallway from our rooms and into the main part of the Lodge, I can't help but shiver a little and pull my sweater closer around me. September in Alaska still has quite a few warmer days, but I have a hard time staying warm anymore regardless of what the temperature is. Since Edward keeps our rooms warmer than the rest of the house, I always notice it a bit more in the hallways. I'm after a nice, hot cup of peppermint tea and one of those brownies Esme has been baking for me.

Magic brownies. I can't help but grin a little at the thought of sweet, Motherly Esme putting marijuana in the brownie mix. We almost had a major mix up the other day when Charlie, picking up the rich smell of chocolate filling the air had made his way to the kitchen by following his nose. Esme of course had already prepared a 'plain' batch for just this reason, but Charlie, not knowing the difference, immediately went for the magic batch. He'd been just about to take a bite when Jasper had walked in, and in a moment of very quick thinking had inundated Charlie with a zap of indecisive emotions that kept him from taking the first bite. Staring at the treat, perplexed by why he suddenly didn't know if he wanted it or not, Jasper had placed one of the plain brownies on a plate and offered it instead. Giving him some line about how they were fresher, and adding a little jolt of longing that had luckily convinced Charlie to put down the first and take the second. Since then, Esme now kept the plain brownies out in the open, and the ones meant solely for my consumption hidden away in the back of the cupboard.

Not that I had eaten many. For the most part the headaches make me incredibly nauseous and the last thing I want is food. What I generally want is a very quiet, dark place. Edward's arms holding me, his mouth gently passing the benefits of the smoke from his breath to mine, and the bliss of complete silence until the miserable pounding passes. Today however, I'm after preventative therapy. Edward is hunting and when he comes back in a few hours I want to be in his arms in the dark, but I don't want any pain getting in the way. A little shiver of anticipation makes its way over my sensitive nerve endings as I enter the kitchen and start the kettle. A fancy coffee machine sits on the counter that has a tea option, but there is something very comforting about going through the motions of making tea the old fashioned way. I find a plate and a brownie, and when my tea is made, sit down at the table.

The brownie is good, the benefits are better, even though I can only eat half. I haven't yet ever felt stoned. Really, the only thing I notice is a feeling of calming detachment and an easing of the headache, and all the other aches and pains that plague me lately.

I wrap the rest of the brownie and replace it in the cupboard before refilling my mug. Deciding a book would be a good way to pass the rest of the afternoon while I wait for Edward to come back from hunting, I head into the small room off the main hall that acts as a library. My fingers glide over the numerous spines tucked so neatly on the shelves, feeling light and unrushed. The house is quiet; Esme and Carlisle having left earlier to hunt as well. Emmett had taken Charlie out to some place close where they could fish, and Rose and Alice are on patrol. Or what I call patrol. Edward calls it being diligent. Either way, no matter the time of day someone is always outside, keeping an eye out for any wolves, or one in particular anyway.

I push those thoughts from my mind and slip farther into the room, smiling at some of the more obscure titles. Anne Rice's, Interview with a Vampire is wedged between The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and something in Latin I can't read. There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the way the books have been placed here, which only makes my search more entertaining.

An original copy of the Joy of Sex from 1972 lays on its side on top of Ernest Hemingway's, For Whom the Bell Tolls. I shake my head with a small smile and then a blush, remembering the Cosmo magazine from the airplane with its listing of seventy seven sex positions. I still haven't found the nerve to more than peek at the list. Lifting the cover of The Joy of Sex shows me an illustrated couple in a position that can only be compared to that of a pretzel. I drop the cover closed just as quickly as I'd opened it, and slide Ernest Hemingway out from underneath, before moving to one of the plush overstuffed chairs in the corner. Weak, late afternoon sunlight filters in through the window as I curl up in the corner, tucking my feet beneath me. The pages of the book are soft and pleasantly scented with the delicate, musty undertones of aged paper, and for awhile I lose myself in the midst of the Spanish civil war. Eventually though, like always, my eyes grow tired and achy and my concentration slips.

I allow my head to fall back and let my thoughts drift, wondering when Edward will be home. My body comes to life at the thought. I want nothing more than to be in his arms...

"Bella."

Nearly coming out of my skin, I jump at the sound of my name to see Jasper standing in the doorway. The book slips from my lap and lands on the floor. Reaching down for it, blushing with the overreaction, my hand brushes his as he beats me to it. I recoil instantly from the contact, a knee jerk reaction I haven't yet beaten.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, watching me carefully. "I didn't mean to startle you." He hands me the book, smiling at the cover. "I was just reading this yesterday. I didn't know you were a Hemingway fan."

A few sharp pains stab at my temples, and I settle back in the chair trying to relax. The fact that I'm not feeling Jasper's usual calming influence means I've shielded. Again. Not a good thing under the circumstances, and though he's keeping his tone casual the sharpness in his gaze is watchful and careful, letting me know he's aware.

"I guess I'm more of an Austen girl," I reply. "But I thought I'd give it a try." The headache intensifies, making me wince and then whimper. "Jasper?"

"Yes?"

"I think I'm in trouble." I can feel panic squeezing my chest. I haven't had a severe panic attack in nearly two weeks, but I can feel one starting now, triggered from God only knows what. Jasper startling me? Missing Edward? Nothing at all, just my messed up head?

A scratching sound is followed by a hiss of flame and the scent of sulphur, followed just as quickly by the rich scent of marijuana smoke.

"Open your eyes for me, darlin." Jasper's voice is as soft as the smoke, and I do what he asks. Like Edward, he drags the smoke into his mouth and using one very gentle finger to tip my head up, he sends the smoke my way with a strong exhale in a perfect, straight stream. I inhale tentatively, more than a bit uncomfortable doing this with Jasper. Not that this is even remotely similar. Other than the finger he'd used to tip my head up he hasn't touched me, remaining crouched in front of the chair I'm sitting on with several feet of open space between us. He repeats the action again and the effects are quick and welcome. As I begin to relax he holds out the blunt and presses it gently to my fingers, allowing me to take the next two hits myself before removing it from my shaky fingers and extinguishing it for me.

The last of the pain in my head leaves, and I feel detached and then calm. The calm feeling comes from Jasper this time, telling me the shield has lifted again. For some reason, maybe it is the relief, or maybe something else, I start to cry. Jasper reaches out and takes my hand, holding it in his.

"I'm sorry," I sob. "God, what you must think of me. You must think I'm so weak, so pathetic."

"_I think_, that you are still in pain. I think that you are still hurting, and bottling up more than you should_. I think,_ that you are incredibly strong, Bella."

I shake my head. "Strong? I don't feel strong." He hands me a tissue and I blow my nose noisily. Grimacing, he holds out a waste basket for me to drop the used tissue in and I let my head fall back against the chair, staring at the ceiling and allowing the numb, weed induced feeling to swamp me.

"Maybe not now, but you will."

I don't answer. I've heard this all before. How I might not feel strong now, but I will, in time. I'm tired of waiting. I'm just plain tired, period. I keep staring at the ceiling, noticing how it's painted in a pattern of swirls and I get lost in them.

"Did Alice see this happening?" I ask him. "Is that why you were prepared." I place air quotes around 'prepared', trying to lighten the mood, despite the heavy stone weight in my stomach.

"No," he answers with a small laugh. "But I know where you keep your stash, and I'm very quick on my feet."

I try to smile at his joke and fail, so I settle instead on squeezing the hand that still holds mine.

"Do you think about Jacob?"

The unexpected question rings in my head, echoing with a dozen images. Jacob my friend, Jacob my betrayer. "Sometimes. I try not to, but I can't always help it," I whisper. I never talk about this. I don't want to talk about this.

"What do you think about?"

His voice is soft and seems to come from a million miles away. The swirls on the ceiling blend together as I contemplate my answer. My voice sounds as detached and as far away as I feel when I find the words. "I wonder where he is. I wonder if he's okay, and then I hate myself for wondering. I remember things. Things about him from before, and then I remember what he did and I can't make the two connect. It's like seeing two totally different people. My Jacob. My friend. The one who made me laugh and smile when I thought I was dying inside. And then...the other Jacob. I can't make it fit, Jasper."

"Maybe that is the problem. The two don't fit, Bella. It is possible that your Jacob was just that. Your friend. And the other Jacob, the one who hurt you and Charlie, he was someone else. You can love who he was, and still mourn his loss."

"And the other Jacob? What do I do with him?"

"You get angry. You rail and you rant and you curse him. And then, when you're done, you let him go. You forgive him if you can, and if you can't, you at least forgive yourself."

I look away from the ceiling and down at him. His gold eyes look back at me evenly, warmly, full of understanding and acceptance. Something tells me he knows what he's talking about, and I remember what he'd told me about Maria, the vampire that had changed him.

"I brought something for you," he tells me, changing the subject abruptly, rising to his feet and moving back to the door. He spins around and returns with a small, glossy black gift bag, handing it to me. The handles are tied with white ribbons streaming down the side of the bag in artful spirals.

"Alice?" I ask with a smile, letting one of the ribbons curl around my finger.

He laughs. "Yes. Apparently it was not acceptable that I give you a gift without what she calls 'the proper adornments'."

Carefully untangling the ribbons I open the bag and reach inside, beyond curious. Nestled inside, in layers of delicate white tissue paper is a journal. Bound and covered in butter-soft, chocolate brown leather, the blank inner pages are crisp and white. Along the spine is my name; written in delicate and artful calligraphy.

_Bella Cullen._

I run my fingers up and down the raised edges of the silver lettering, new tears pricking my eyes as I look up at him.

He reaches for the journal and opens it to the first page, turning it back to me so I can read the inscription.

_*One need not be a chamber to be haunted;_  
_one need not be a house;_  
_the brain has corridors surpassing_  
_Material place._

"Emily Dickenson," I whisper with a smile.

"You know it?"

_*"Far safer, of a midnight meeting_  
_External ghost,_  
_than an interior confronting_  
_that whiter host."_

I quote the second verse while my fingers run over the first, and he nods.

"You can swallow it down a million times, Bella, but it will keep finding its way up," he tells me. "Write it down. All of it. The good and the bad. Purge it from your mind to the paper." He turns the first page and more writing appears in his neat elegant style. "I started it for you," he tells me with a gentle smile. "I hope you don't mind."

I read the words once and then a second time, the ink blurring when emotion gets the better of me.

_My name is Isabella Marie Cullen_, he'd written. _I am loved and never alone_.

"Whatever memories you write on these pages." He tells me gently, "remember this one the most. When it hurts and you think you cannot bear it, come back and read this as often as you need, because you are not alone, Bella, and you are very much loved." He closes the journal and places it on my lap before moving back to the doorway. He pauses at the threshold, turning back again. "Perhaps you and I can spend some time together in the coming days," he offers, his southern charm out in full force. "If you'd like to of course."

"I would," I answer, blinking away the tears that have blurred his words on the page. And then he's gone, leaving me alone with endless blank pages and the sudden, overwhelming urge to fill them up.

I find myself drifting back to my room, and then to Carlisle's office, the fluffy pen in my hands as I settle down on the window seat where the light is the brightest. With pillows behind my back I place the pen against the pages, and the flood gates I've worked so hard to keep locked up tight, open in a rush of sound and light and images. Good and bad, it all pours out. The words are effortless, the pen in my hand an extension of it all.

And I write.

Long past the point where the light of the day illuminates the room and the words. New light replaces it in the form of lamps that are turned on by visitors from the present who float on the edges of my awareness. They surround me quietly, like a wall of protection against the buffeting memories.

Carlisle. Moving the tall floor lamp a little closer to me, brushing his hand over my hair before settling at his desk with his books and notes. The scratching of his pen joins mine.

Alice. Sitting by my feet with a book, not asking anything, just being there, a solid, comforting presence.

Esme. Wrapping a blanket around my feet and legs, kissing my forehead, leaving a drink at my side.

Emmett. Starting a fire in the fireplace. He and Rose settling onto the couch with their own books, quiet and unobtrusive, but solidly there. A real presence amongst the ghosts in the corridors of my mind.

Charlie. He brings me a sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly with the crusts cut off, exactly the way he'd made them when I was little. He hovers and I pat his hand.

Jasper. Quiet and still. Sometimes I look up and he's there. Watching me with his hands clasped around, For Whom the Bell Tolls, silently reminding me to remember who I am. When the memories get dark I feel him gently buffing out the edges, never overwhelming me, just letting me know he's there, that I'm not alone.

Edward. I'm more aware of him than anyone else. He touched me once when he came in, colder than normal from the outside air, the scent of Spruce trees and Bayberry clinging to his clothes. He'd touched me once, a soft, ghost like brush of his fingers on my cheek. I'd wanted to stop writing then, my memories taking me slowly but inexorably to the darker places I want to hide from. I'd wanted to climb into his arms and bury my face in his neck. Breathe in the smell of Alaska and cold, and most of all, him. Kiss his frozen skin and let that cold take away all traces of heat that come from the memories. Hot skin and hands, and so many things I want to avoid remembering, but the words want out and in the end I'm powerless against their pull. For the first time something stronger than the pull that normally takes me to him owns me in those moments.

So I purge. All of it. From my memories of the scent of motor oil and turpentine in the Black's garage, to the sounds of Jacob's voice as he worked on our motorcycles. The feel of his touch as he patiently showed me how to properly hold a wrench. The way his smile could shine a light right through the oppressive, black clouds that consumed all the space around me. The sound of his laughter, the way he moved, the pull of him always drawing me in even when I wanted nothing more than to drown in my pain.

The darker stuff is harder. I try to keep the tears at bay, but they fall like acid to hit the pages I write on and obliterate the words. If only it was that easy. If only...

Someone touches me and I feel stronger. Rose. She doesn't linger, just rests her hand at the nape of my bent neck and the strength flows into me, giving me the power to write one more word, and then another, and another...

The day ends and the night begins, and still I write. Past the point where my hand cramps and my fingers burn. Past the point where my wrist aches and the joints in my legs scream from being too long in one position.

I write about how much it hurts to have been loved by someone, and still not be enough for them. I write about what it means to love someone back, but fail to be what they need you to be. Most of all I write about how it isn't just about two Jacob's, but two Bella's as well.

The girl I used to be. The woman I am now.

Jacob's Bella. Broken and needy, and always clinging desperately to the warmer edges of life.

Edward's Bella. Strong enough to face anything, even death to follow the path to what I know is right, to where I know I belong. I'm not whole without him, and that is surprisingly okay now. It flies against convention. It isn't what I was raised to believe when Renee tried to teach me that I should be whole within myself, needing no man. I am woman hear me roar; watch me take on the world all by myself. I believed it all until Edward. There is no world to take on without him by my side, and only the lion can teach the lamb how to roar.

Closing the journal, I look up for the first time in hours, feeling the painful yet pleasant burn of stiff muscles unclenching. The room is nearly empty. Carlisle's medical books stacked neatly once again on his desk. Alice's copy of The Dynamics of Fashion abandoned on the table with my uneaten sandwich. For Whom the Bell Tolls, beside it. The Joy of Sex First Edition on the now empty sofa, sitting right beside, A Scandalous History of the Roman Emperors. The chess board is set up, the pieces in varying states of mid-game play, Charlie's sweater left on the back of one of the chairs.

In the other is Edward. My husband. My life and the reason I can crawl out of the memories, both good and bad that want to eat me alive. The reason and will I find to square my shoulders and fight off more of the fatigue and sadness that wants to drag me under their tidal waves and drown me. He's facing the fire. Leaning forward with his hands cupped beneath his chin, his expression stoic and his body so still he could be a beautiful, marble statue carved for scandalous Roman Emperors.

He comes alive the second I move, turning, rising, and coming to me in that perfect fluid motion that shouldn't be possible, but somehow is. My eyes cloud up with tears again, only this time, for once, I don't fight them back, nor do I feel ashamed or weak when they start to fall. He cups my face with a small groan, his fingers almost, but not quite, holding me too hard.

I'm hollow. Empty. So empty I swear I can hear the echo of my own breathing bouncing off my insides. Grabbing his shirt in my fisted hands I pull him close and press my mouth to his with all the strength I can find. Kissing him; dragging his smell and the essence of who and what he is deep, deep inside. Trying to fill myself up with him, and all the good, and light, and right in the world that exists because he loves me, and because I love him back.

Rising onto my knees I try to get closer, and he helps by releasing my face, his hands sliding down to my waist then my hips, dragging me against him. I can taste my tears on his lips, salty and bitter, mingling with his sweet flavour.

"Take me to bed," I whimper against his mouth. "Take me to bed and make love to me. Fill me up, Edward. Don't stop until I can't breathe anymore...please."

Edward makes a hissing sound in the back of his throat at my plea and draws back to look at my face.

"Please," I whimper again, and then he's lifting me, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist, and no more than a second later he's tumbling us down on our bed. The only light comes from the moonlight filtering in through the windows and the fire that he must have built in the fireplace sometime tonight. It's dying down; nothing more than a few flames and a mound of glowing red hot coals.

His hands on my body are everywhere, cold and perfect and sure, but I need more. I need to be closer. I reach for the hem of his shirt and start to yank it up, trying to get my hands underneath and whimpering in frustration when they get stuck between the layer of his sweater and the thin t-shirt he's wearing beneath it. He pulls away, and I whimper at the loss of him, but he's only tugging the shirts over his head, tossing them to the floor before covering me again.

"Hush, love. I'm right here," he soothes, cold marble lips finding mine again, equally cold fingers making my own clothes vanish just as quickly as his shirt. When he has me naked I arch against him, still wanting more. He's moving too slow, using too much care. I want; no I _need_ to have him inside of me, now. Finding his hand, I drag it down my body and press it between my legs, bolder than I have ever been before. His fingers are like ice against my heat and I gasp from the shock even as spikes of pleasure race through me, jagged around the edges but perfect nonetheless. I keep my fingers locked around his as I arch and rub against his hand. He groans loudly against my neck, trailing kisses down to my breasts as I reach for his belt buckle with my free hand.

Edward jerks back with a little growl as my fingers brush over him. He's so hard, and finally I see on his face the reflection of what I feel. Desperation and need. Small, electric like shocks prickle my skin and make the tiny, fine hairs all over my body stand up on end. The invisible chords that connect us snap and quiver, trying to pull us closer, demanding the one act that will bring us as close as is physically possible. His hands tear away the belt and his pants, and the sounds of shredding, ripping material tell me they won't be fit to wear ever again.

Grabbing his hips I drag him forward, locking my legs around his waist and lifting my entire body off the bed to mould it to his, trying desperately to align everything and bring him inside of me. I can feel him, hard, so hard against my inner thigh, but he won't let me pull him those final inches closer. Instead his hands cup my hips and pin them to the bed.

"Edward, please." My voice is hard and needy in the dark, but he doesn't relent. I feel him pull back and then his mouth is against my ear and my legs are down from around his waist, pinned to the bed as well.

"Wait, love," he says, his breath panting, though he doesn't need to breathe and can't possibly ever become out of breath. "Let me make you ready first. I don't want to hurt you; I don't ever want to hurt you..."

"I don't care," I whimper, nonsensical with the need and the emptiness that I know only he can fill. I sob against his mouth when he moves it back to mine."Hurt me, take me. I don't care, I just need...I just need..."

He growls and his voice is firm and dark and controlling. "I know what you need, love. I know." He moves down my body, dragging his cold mouth over my skin, pausing in places to kiss and lick with firm flicks of his tongue that sting with the force he uses, and yes, oh yes, it is exactly what I want, what I need. Then he is between my legs and there is no warning, just mind altering cascades of feeling that border on the edge of pain as his mouth covers my sex. The touch of venom on my skin makes already sensitive nerve endings explode, and I cry and sob out his name again and again while the pleasure owns me entirely.

When I'm panting and can't tell where one sensation ends and the others begin, he finally relents, making his way back up my body. He's trying to be gentle now, but when he presses a soft kiss to my mouth, I bite down hard on his lower lip and push my hips to his. With a growl his hands wrap around my waist and he lifts me from the bed till I straddle his lap, poised in the perfect position to take him inside of me. For a long moment we stay like that, our breath panting in and out of our lungs, eyes staring into one another's as though we are looking for each others souls. I see him, striving for control; his eyes are so dark, almost feral in his pale face, his lips drawn back from his teeth.

This is the side of himself he tries so hard to repress. The one he fears, but I do not. I've seen this side; in all its horrible glory in the middle of nowhere while he'd tried to make the one who'd hurt me pay with blood and pain. I'd watched this Edward exact revenge, seen him walk through flames for me. I trust him as much as I trust the part of him that most resembles who he would have been had the Influenza and Carlisle never crossed his path. They are one and the same, and they both love me beyond reason or sanity or limits. He will never hurt me.

Dropping my hands from his shoulders, I reach down and lay them over his where they hold tightly to my hips, cover them and press my fingers into the spaces his leave until I feel my own skin. So hot in comparison to his.

"Love me," I whisper, touching his lips with mine so he can feel the way my mouth forms the plea. "Please." Turning my head so I can bite down on the perfect outline of his strong jaw. "Love me," I say again while one of the few remaining stacked logs in the fireplace falls, creating a shower of orange sparks to dance upwards and out, hissing and snapping. The wood ignites and the flames create writhing patterns of shadow over us, over him, and I should be afraid by what the orange and red light reveals in his eyes, but I'm not. All I feel is heat and trust, and a need so strong I want to combust. I bite his neck and the place where his throat and shoulder curve together, hard enough that I would have drawn blood if he was human.

"Isabella..." His voice is beyond dark. I wait for the warning, for him to push me away and wonder if I'll survive the rejection. But seconds pass and he stays. My hands move back up to his hair as I push down, knowing I can only get what I want if he allows it and excited beyond belief by that. And finally he moves.

He surges into me in one fluid motion that takes my breath away, growling my name again.

"Isabella. Mine. My Bella, my love."

My whole body starts to tremble as he moves me in the most perfect rhythm over him, his hands guiding my hips with stunning accuracy, and it has never been like this. I can feel the restraint crumbling and still he's careful enough not to hurt me. He continues that surging motion, hitting places inside of me I'd never known existed. I cry out his name and his hands leave my hips and travel up my back, letting me move how I want now, still growling the word mine in the most hot and possessive way, over and over again.

I let go of all of it then. The pain, the fear, the uncertainty. It dissolves in the heat that consumes me from head to toe. I feel my skin break out in sweat, and feel him kiss it from my flesh with cool, soothing brushes of mouth and tongue and lips. It's only him, it's only ever been him, and this is all I need. His touch, his love. This is my place to heal. In his arms, with his hands on my skin and his body buried in mine until I can't tell where he ends and I begin.

The most intense climax washes over me until I think I might disintegrate under the pleasure, but he's there, holding me, anchoring me to this world, to this life. The promise of another life solid and real between us.

Time stops. I lose track of everything but the lines of his body and mine, and the ways we move together. Fast, then slow, and what was hard and needy turns tender and loving. When my thighs tremble and I have no more strength, he lays me down on the sheets where the moonlight turns them silver. The fire has gone out, and only a few orange embers glow weakly in the grate now. Edward's eyes are still black above me but his touch is reverential, and when I begin to tremble all over again, helpless under the perfect way he moves inside of me, over me, around me, he touches my face.

"I know what you need," he whispers again, only gentle this time in a voice soaked in love and desire.

"You," I answer, pulling him closer and kissing him deeply. "I only need you."

One sure, solid, cold hand slides beneath my hips, lifting me higher so his body can touch me inside and out in ways so perfect I have no power to hold off the inevitable. I fall apart to the sound of him repeating my words, and feel him fall over the edge with me this time. I lose the ability to breathe, which is exactly what I'd wanted, and for the longest and most perfect of moments I find a place of absolute pleasure.

When it is over. When the last of the embers are cool and nothing more than gray ash. When the night is at its deepest point, I lay tangled with Edward's cool limbs, my head on his chest, the scent of sex and love all over him, and I find a new place. One of absolute peace.

For the first time in a very long while, I allow myself to hope, that maybe, just maybe, I'll get my happily ever after after all.

* * *

A/N Someone recently asked to be reminded of what Rose's gift is. I figured I'd answer here since if one person asks, there might be a few of you who've forgotten. ;) Rose has a gift similiar to Jasper's where she can both sense and impart emotion. However, unlike Jasper, Rose needs to touch someone in order to do so. Her gift is not as strong as Jasper's, but if you remember, Bella has the ability to enhance the gifts of other vampires, which is why the connection between her and Rose works so well. And also how Rose's gift came to be out in the open in the first place.

I also get asked often how many chapters are left. Unfortunately, it seems to be constantly changing, since as many of you know, I struggle with doing anything in short form. Chapters are forever ending up too long forcing me to split them up. As of right now though, I'm planning 3 more. 2 actual chapters and an epilogue. We're so close to the end I can taste it, and yes, it is bittersweet.

While we are on the subject of questions, I'd just like to say there are lots of subtle things happening in this chapter. One of those is where I once again play around with the duality of Edward's vampire nature/personality. For some reason I feel like the so-called "monster" would be more formal, hence why "he" refers to Bella as Isabella. If you remember he also does this in chapter 37, Suffer, after she's stopped him from killing Jacob. I have no idea _why_ that is, my mind is an odd place sometimes, but I wanted to attempt to explain it in case anyone is wondering why he does it, lol. Anyway, my point is, feel free to ask questions, dear readers. I'll always do my best to answer so if something is confusing you, speak up.

Aleea


	48. Chapter 48

A/N Chapter is unbeta'd. Usual apologies for errors apply as do the usual disclaimers.

All quotes in this chapter belong to Henry David Thoreau and come from the book, Walden. (1854)

* * *

Chapter 48

**Leave it all Behind**

_Say what you have to say, not what you ought. Any truth is better than make-believe. – _From Walden, by Henry David Thoreau. Chapter 18 - Conclusion.

**Charlie's POV**

My hands shake as I pick up the book. The cover is soft and slick, and my fingers leave damp prints on its surface as I trace the name on the spine.

Bella Cullen.

A little part of me is bitter, seeing the loss of my name attached to hers, a bigger part is grateful. If not for that name, I'm not sure what would have become of her. I've been thinking a lot about that. About the Bella that came to live with me a few short years ago; too old, too mature, too responsible for her age. She should have been rebelling. She should have been a spit fire of teenage angst, and instead, she was more adult-like than most of the adults I know. She'd walked in the house and instantly started looking after me. Taking over the household chores, worrying about me and my eating habits, as if she were the adult in the picture and not the other way around. It was pretty obvious then that living all those years with Renee had made Bella damn efficient at looking after others. I wonder though, what that would cost a child, and maybe the proof of that was in her actions.

When Edward came into the picture, I'd figured I was finally going to see some of that teenage behaviour all my buddies with kids warned me about. But he just seemed like her. Polite, well behaved, intelligent, mature. He never once brought her home past curfew, always addressed me with the utmost respect, sat at my kitchen table and did homework, helped Bella study.

Maybe that's why I was so shocked when the other shoe fell. I'd stopped waiting for her to rebel, so when she ran off and ended up in the hospital after falling through a hotel window in Phoenix, I really hadn't known what to do with it. I blamed him of course. That was the easy thing to do. I blamed him again when he left her. I made the decision that he was no good for her, even when he came back and it was damn obvious that she wasn't whole without him. And isn't that thought the entire situation in a nutshell?

Bella changed when Edward came into her life, right from day one, like she was walking through life half a person before him. I guess the bottom line is, if I can believe in vampires and werewolves, I can sure as hell believe in soul mates. And if ever there were two, Bella and Edward are it.

I look down again at the book in my hands. I guess it's a diary, or a journal, or some such thing. I'd sat here earlier tonight and watched Bella writing in it with the kind of concentration and intense determination that didn't seem normal. It was like she wasn't even entirely here, so I guess she was lost in her head and in her memories. It had been the strangest damn thing, sitting here in this little room, playing chess with Edward like my daughter and his wife wasn't sitting less than six feet away from us with silent tears running down her pale face. That weird little pen in her hand just scratching away at the book, on and on while she'd flipped the pages without a sound.

If Jasper hadn't warned me when I first came in the house that Bella was doing some 'therapeutic writing,' as he called it, I'm not sure I could have sat there. As it was every time I looked up and saw those eerie, quiet tears, I wanted to get up and try to find some damn way to help. Only just as soon as I felt that way, I'd get weirdly calm and relaxed. I knew it was Jasper's doing, and I figured I had to just trust them to know what was best. I might have thought they were all cold to just sit there like that and let her go through whatever it was she was going through, but I've gotten to know them all a lot better over the last few weeks, and skin temperature aside, none of them are cold.

A family protects its own, Carlisle once said to me. Never has that been more obvious than it was tonight with them all gathered together in that little room, obviously there for her even if no one said a word.

So Edward and I played chess, both of us too distracted to focus on the game. He'd kept his body angled always towards her, and if I hadn't been so distracted myself, it probably would have been the one and only time I might have stood a chance at beating him. Eventually though, I couldn't stay any longer. When Bella slipped into a silent, stoic-faced concentration, the others all began to leave, stopping to touch her hair, or kiss her head, not that she seemed to notice. Squeezing Edward's shoulder, and mine on the way out. When it was only Jasper, Edward and me, I gave up on the game entirely. Edward didn't protest, and the three of us kept what I guess was some kind of vigil. She never spoke, and she never stopped writing. At one point I started to say her name, wanting to break that suffocating silence and ask if she needed... _anything_. I didn't understand how she could just sit there like that while the hours went by, nothing moving but her hand, but Edward shook his head at me so I'd subsided back into my chair, and the silence went on.

Sometime just after midnight, Alice slid into the room as quiet as a ghost and whispered something to Edward. He nodded, and no sooner had she left then Emmett was back, towels and liniment oil in one hand, a beer in the other.

"Hey, Pops," he'd greeted quietly, that alone telling me something was up. Emmett is never quiet, never mind the beer which is at the top of Carlisle's banned foods and beverages list. Can't remember the last time I had one. "What do you say we get you rubbed down and settled for the night?" he asked, giving me a grin. "Play your cards right, and I'll even heat this stuff up for you." He shook the bottle of evil smelling oil, and I sighed. Given it's put on by hands as cold as Emmett's, I doubted it would help. I was just about to tell him I was going to stay when I was suddenly dog dead tired. Not a surprise, I still get tired easily, but this time I doubted it was me. I'd given Jasper a look, but he wasn't giving anything away. From behind, Emmett squeezed my shoulder.

"Come on, Pops." His voice was even quieter then. "She's going to be okay, and you've had a really long day. Edward's got her."

I realized then that Jasper had left the room as well while we were talking. Edward nodded when I'd looked at him.

"Get some rest, Charlie," he'd said, just as quietly as Emmett. Whatever Alice had told him, seemed to have taken away some of the tension. His eyes were clearer, so I was guessing she'd seen Bella was going to be okay. Despite the fact that Jasper left, I still felt damn tired, so maybe it hadn't been him after all. I got my feet underneath me after one more look at Bella hunched in that window seat. Something had changed with her as well, I could see that clearly. The pen wasn't moving as fast or as frantic, and the hand curled around the book was no longer clenched.

I'd wanted to go to her, but something told me not to. I listened to my instincts and followed Emmett out, leaving Edward staring at the fire, though I could tell he was just as aware of Bella as he would have been if he'd been looking at her.

After one of Emmett's patented massages meant to keep my muscles loose after the strenuous workouts he puts me through, I tried to sleep. You'd think after a massage I'd be relaxed, but a massage from Emmett is more like getting mauled by a friendly bear. I did get half a beer out of it, but even that hadn't done much to relax me. I'd just kept thinking about Bella.

And so here I am, now, at two o'clock in the morning, sitting in the same spot she had, staring at a cold fireplace with a book I have no business reading clutched in my hands.

I don't hear him, not a surprise, but I do sense I'm not alone so I don't have a heart attack when I look up and see him in the doorway.

"You okay, Chief?" Jasper leans one shoulder against the doorframe and even from across the room I can smell the outside on his clothes. That unique, fresh smell of Alaskan wilderness.

"Yeah, couldn't sleep. Guess you know what that's like."

He smiles a little at my weak attempt at a joke. "Tonight was hard for you." Not a question, no surprise there either.

"Yeah, you could say that. I think it was a hell of a lot harder on my daughter though."

"Yes."

I am surprised when he agrees, and of course he knows that too.

"Hard, but necessary." He moves farther into the room and settles into the chair Edward had been in earlier. For a long moment he stares at the chess board, like he's dissecting all the moves we'd made. "It's hard for Bella to talk about what happened with Jacob. Hard for her to even sort it all out so that she could talk about it, if she was so inclined." Long fingers delicately pick up Edward's bishop and move it. I think he might be trying to entice me into a game, but I don't budge. I also don't miss the fact that he's the first one I've heard speak Jacob's name out loud since I got here. "It must be hard for you as well," he adds casually.

I grunt, which pretty much answers him, not that he'd been asking, again. I look back down at the book in my hands, and the weight of it feels so much heavier than is possible.

"You don't want to read that, Chief."

"Wasn't planning on it," I reply, which is mostly true. I'd come back here to make sure Bella wasn't still sitting in this window. A part of me had known she wouldn't be, and once I'd confirmed it, I had every intention of leaving. That is until I'd seen this damn book, just lying there, looking harmless and innocuous, even as I'd known it was anything but. No, I wasn't planning on it, but I sure as hell was tempted. Invading Bella's privacy seemed like the blackest kind of betrayal, but Jasper is right, Bella doesn't talk about what Jacob did, and that scares me. I've read and written hundreds of reports dealing with violent attacks in my life. One could even say I've gotten a thick skin about them. But I'd learned how to deal with the victims by reading them, by understanding what they'd gone through. Not knowing is like walking a field full of landmines, and that is how I feel with Bella. I don't like it.

Jasper cocks his head slightly to the side, watching me, reading me. "She needed to let it go. I think she began to do that tonight." Translation, nothing can be gained by me reading this.

"I don't know how to help her," I admit, feeling the words choke down my throat. Her name blurs and I blink fast and hard to clear my vision, smelling the salt of my own tears. "I keep thinking that maybe part of the reason she isn't getting better physically, is because her mind won't let her. Like she's maybe punishing herself." I glance up at him wet eyes be damned, and he regards me thoughtfully.

"The human mind is a complex thing." Not a yes, but not a no either. "Guilt for example is a strong emotion. It can affect a man's health adversely, just as easily as it can a woman's."

He'd make a damn good shrink this one. "Guilt is a bitch," I tell him, ruefully.

A small chuckle lifts the corners of his mouth and he indicates the chess board with a wave of his hand. "Chess is such a difficult game. So many moves, so many different possibilities." He picks up a white pawn and spins it in his fingers. "Should we blame the pawn for the King's capture?"

I get that we aren't talking about chess anymore. "I invited him to the house, Jasper. I let him in and then I left him alone with her."

"You made the wrong decision, yes. But you could never have known the final outcome, Chief. All of us, mortals and non-mortals alike, are just trying to play the game to the best of our abilities. To protect the ones we love, we sometimes make mistakes, especially when we don't understand all the rules, or all the players."

"You don't understand!" The rest of the words and explanations get stuck in my throat.

"Don't I?" He leans back in his chair and his eyes get darker again. He seems to be thinking, maybe trying to decide what he wants to say. After a minute he gets up and makes his way to the fireplace, taking up the poker and stirring the now cold ashes in the grate. "Did you know that Edward's decision to leave Bella came about as a result of my actions?" He replaces the poker and turns back to me. "I am not, nor have I ever been as strong as my family members at controlling what I am. My weakness reminded Edward of all the reasons why we were so dangerous to Bella, why we had no business being in her life. He left, wanting to protect her, from us, from me, from himself."

Unable to look at those dark eyes any longer, I get up and go to the window not knowing if I want to know the full story behind his confession. They all make it so easy sometimes to forget what they are, but I'm not Bella. It isn't as easy for me to see past it all, or to accept it completely no matter how good they are at pretending. I put the book down and stare outside where the moonlight makes the grass look silver, washing out all the colour and hard edges.

"I lived with that guilt for a long time" he continues, obviously sparing me the gorier details. I wish my imagination would do the same. "One split second mistake and I couldn't take it back. Given the chance, I would have done anything to make amends. But I wasn't given the chance, because what I did spawned decisions and actions that were not within my control. Much like your decision spawned repercussions you could never have imagined."

At the edge of the woods I see movement. A deer. It drifts into the yard, ears perked and attentive. When it comes closer I can see it's a doe. The heavy wash of light from the moon makes her seem almost ethereal. That she's brave enough to come so close to a house full of predators makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Jasper, speaking softly in that smooth as silk musical way they all have, doesn't help.

"There are dozens of choices and decisions that brought us here. In the end, the finger of blame can't rest solely on any one person or action. All of us have to bear our burdens of responsibility, Chief. "

I grunt a yes in response. He isn't telling me anything I don't already know. I can't change what I did, no matter how much I wish I could. And chances are good even if I could change them, things still would have gone down the way they did. It all seems kind of inevitable given everything I know now. Like a snowball racing down a mountain in a cartoon; just getting bigger and bigger until it's bound to do some serious damage.

The dark, the moonlight, even the doe in the yard. It all seems so damn dream like, which is maybe why I start talking. Or maybe it's him. Jasper. The way he has about him, his own quiet confessions that I get wasn't easy for him, the way it all seems like the perfect place and time to bare a soul. Any soul. His, mine.

"I damn near helped raised that kid." My throat tries to close up on the words, but I force them out. "Did you know that? When he was born I was there, Renee and I both, sitting in the waiting room. Bella was just a baby herself. When they were older, they used to play together, before the divorce."

The doe moves closer to the house. She seems less cautious now, chewing at the grass and flowers in that delicate way deer have.

"When his mother died, Renee and I looked after him for weeks. Billy wasn't in any shape, and the girls were too young to look after him properly. Billy damn near drank himself to death and I couldn't do much to stop it, but I could make sure those kids were looked after. Especially Jacob."

My face is wet, and I wipe at it, almost surprised. I'm reminded of Bella's silent tears from earlier and a part of me finally gets it. How she could cry like that. Like this.

"I was there when he learned how to ride a bike. I helped teach him how to bait a hook, and how to cast a fishing line. He came to work with me a few times when the school made the kids participate in work co-op programs..."

I feel a hand fall on my shoulder, bracing and comforting at the same time as it is disconcerting with that cold stone feel I find hard to get used to. I realize my shoulders are shaking now, though thank God the tears are staying silent.

"He was like a son to me in some ways. I opened my home, I trusted him..." The doe looks up at the window as though she hears me. Her ears twitch as I ramble on, like she's listening. "I never in a million years thought he could be capable of what he did, Jasper. Never. It was as if... As if I didn't mean anything at all to him. Like I didn't matter, like _she_ didn't matter."

The hand squeezes down and that is it. I don't have any more words, just memories of gunshots and Bella, my Bella, my daughter, my heart and life, on the floor. They play through my head and when they're done my head feels strangely empty. Like maybe the reel on that particular memory just broke and maybe, just maybe, I won't ever have to watch it again.

For a long time we just stand there. Staring out, watching the doe. I wipe the water off my face and take a deep breath and Jasper gives my shoulder one more squeeze before dropping his hand. He laughs quietly as the doe ambles over to one of Esme's flower pots and takes a chomp out of the plant growing there.

"Brave thing." I say.

"Hm. I dare say," he replies with another small laugh before quoting,_"You only need sit still long enough in some attractive spot in the woods that all its inhabitants may exhibit themselves to you by turns."_

I snort and shake my head. "You've been listening to Edward reading that damn book to Bella too I see."

"Walden," he offers the title with a grin and a shake of his own some point or another all of us have been in a room where Edward and Bella will be curled up somewhere together reading. The latest book has spawned a few heated debates that are entertaining to listen to. The Cullen's aren't exactly minimalists.

The doe's ears twitch again, and she drops her head once before turning and vanishing just as quietly as she came.

With the weird spell like feeling broken, I look down at the journal one last time and sigh, knowing I'm not going to read it. Not now, not ever.

Someone slips an arm around mine and I look down to see Alice. She lays her head against the place just above my elbow and together we watch the woods where the doe vanished.

"I see really good things in your future, Charlie," Alice tells me quietly. I reach out and gently pat the cool hand resting on my bicep awkwardly, clearing my throat.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I grunt and give her hard little fingers a squeeze. "By any chance did you happen to see the second half of that beer Emmett hid on me anywhere in my near future?"

She smiles and holds out the can that she must have had in her other hand all along. "I won't tell Carlisle if you won't," she says with a smile.

. . . . . .

_"In any weather, at any hour of the day or night, I have been anxious to improve the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too; to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and future, which is precisely the present moment; to toe that line." - _1. Economy, Walden, Henry David Thoreau

**Edward's POV**

It's been a week since Bella wrote in the journal and purged the darkness that seemed to have been consuming her. Bit by bit, day by day, I've watched the transformation as she begins to come out from under the weight of that darkness.

She smiles more, and not just with her mouth, not just a reflex action meant to appease or because It's expected. Real smiles; the kind that make her eyes dance and light up from within. The kind you can't help but respond to.

She goes for a walk every day with Jasper. They spend an hour, sometimes a little more, walking slowly around the lodge in the cool Alaskan September afternoons, quietly talking. I give them privacy, finding numerous ways to block them from my mind as much as possible. Still, I catch small musings from Jasper from time to time, showing me, perhaps purposely, that day by day her mind is clearing and her thoughts about what happened are finding a resolve in her mind. She still dreams fretfully every night, but she no longer wakes crying and ill, as though even her subconscious understands it's time to let go.

I can feel the same thing happening in my own mind. Little by little, I make peace with the choices I've made. In allowing Jacob Black to live, in choosing to let Bella navigate her own mind and make her own peace, without pressure or influence from any of my own thoughts or opinions. There is a rightness to those things that surprises me often. I allow her to guide us through these days and nights, following her lead and waiting, always waiting. Her change is so inevitable now that I wonder how I'd ever thought to fight it. The waiting is torturous. I want to free her from this world. Where once I'd thought to do everything in my power to keep her here, now I see things so differently. I long for the days when fear for her health and wellbeing are not my primary emotions. I long even more for the days when pain is not her constant companion. To see her strong and healthy and invincible, to share both the curse and the blessing that is immortality, is something I ache for. And while I still see it as the most selfish thing I will ever do, I recognize the conundrum. For denying her that which she so desperately wants just to ease my own conscience, is just as selfish. Perhaps even more so.

And so I live in the moment. This one, and then the next, and then the next, each one a precious gift I will not take for granted.

Rising from my piano I move to the window. From this vantage point I can see Esme's greenhouse clearly, and with the music purged from my mind it is free to find hers, and through it, Bella's. Her growing interest in medicinal plants has forged not only a connection between her and Carlisle, but it has also forged a growing bond with Esme. The last few days they've spent hours together in the greenhouse, planting seedlings into pots that Alice and Esme had ordered and had shipped in. Agrimony and Aloe, Bee balm and Bloodroot and dozens more. All the way to Mint for the tea Bella loves, to Witch Hazel and Wood betony, an herb used by many Native American cultures as an aphrodisiac.

I'd teased her about that one when I first saw the small seedling in its miniature clay pot; cherishing and committing the small blush that had emerged on her skin to the place I've stored hundreds of others in my mind. Feeling the ever-present ache at the realization of how numbered they are. The small plant had sat directly beside several pots of mint and I fingered the delicate leaves carefully with a smile in her direction. When she'd come close, curious as to why I was smiling, I'd leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"_Have I discovered the secret of your amorous mood as of late, love?" I question teasingly, inhaling the burn when the blush paints her porcelain skin in soft pinks. With the easing of her inner turmoil, Bella's sexual appetite has gone from healthy to nearly voracious. She catches my meaning instantly, having spent hours poring over every book on the subject of medicinal herbs and plants she can find._

_Biting her lip, she looks back at me evenly, despite the blush. "Well," she murmurs softly. "I haven't been mixing up the Wood Betony and mint, but if I'm too much for you, I suppose I could see if Esme has any Cilantro, or Soy. I read somewhere that's what the Monk's would use as an anaphrodisiac. Or maybe I could talk to Carlisle, I'm sure he could add something to my current pharmaceutical cocktail that would make me less of a strain on you..."_

_I growl, sliding an arm around her waist and slipping the other behind her knee, scooping her up in my arms and taking her at inhuman speed back to the house and our bedroom. I spend the next two hours showing her several times over just how much she is not a strain on me..._

The memory fades leaving me with a smile that could put the proverbial cat that ate the canary to shame. In those moments when we make love, it is as close to peace and perfection as I can hope to come in these fragile days and moments. When she is my arms, her satiny soft, warm flesh against my cold unyielding body, trembling at my touch, the echo of it felt all over my skin; those are the moments I believe the strongest in God and hope and possibility. She has, with her fragile human nature and body, given me a way back to religion and belief I'd once never thought possible. For just as I'd told her on our wedding night, surely I have not been forsaken if I was allowed to have her. Making love with her is as close to God and heaven as any creature could ever hope to come.

In the greenhouse, I hear Bella sigh and watch through Esme's eyes as she rolls her shoulders wearily from her perch atop a tall stool in front of a potting table. There is a small smudge of dirt on her cheek and on the tip of her nose, and a contented smile on her face. She stretches and slips off the stool, peeling the stained gardening gloves from her hands. I frown as I note the tremor is present, worse no doubt because she is over-tired. For a moment I berate myself for the late hour she'd fallen asleep last night.

_We'd spent the evening reading in the great room in front of the huge stone fireplace where a large fire had crackled, snuggled down on the giant overstuffed sofa, Bella wrapped in an electric blanket protecting her from my chilly skin. I'd been reading to her from Henry David Thoreau's Walden, picking out lines from varying chapters to make her smile, or just to amuse myself as her sharp wit and mind dissected the meanings. It had been a topic of many of our quiet night time conversations as of late, the theme of Walden that we need so much less than we have to be truly happy. Occasionally one or more of my family members join in and the discussion becomes not so quiet._

_For Bella the wealth of our surroundings is inconsequential at best, and at worst, in its most basic form, necessary evils for her human frailties. She wonders often what it will feel like to shed those frailties and need nothing more than the abundance of wildlife in the forests to sustain her. I have promised her that we will spend days, weeks, months, as long as her heart desires away from civilization and all its entrapments. Just the two of us. I can imagine no better thing, even as I smile knowing that even for vampire's things like hot showers and treasured personal possessions hold a power of entrapment that may even surpass that of a human. Our existence is so long, so seemingly endless and at times bereft, forced as we are to live in the shadows of twilight, that we cling to our art and our literature, our collectibles and mundane comforts. Grounding ourselves and marking our passage through time with objects and reminders that can accumulate to ridiculous amounts that would make Henry Thoreau squirm in his minimalist grave. She has only begun to scratch the surface in understanding our holdings and worth, overwhelmed easily by the vastness of it. To me it is not greed, or avarice, but merely the mark of lives lived so much longer than she can yet truly understand._

"I had three pieces of limestone on my desk, but I was terrified to find that they required to be dusted daily, when the furniture of my mind was all undusted still, and threw them out the window in disgust."_ I read to her while she rested her head against my chest, watching the fire with tired eyes that crinkled at the edges when she smiles at the line. I press a kiss to her hair and she turned, taking the book from my hands and dropping it to the floor with a gentle thud. She kissed my chin, my ear, my neck, her breath warm and sweet, tinged with mint from her unfinished tea on the coffee table beside us. _

"_Once when I was little, Renee took me to Virginia to visit friends of hers." She murmurs against my skin, the way her lips shape the words doing oddly erotic things to my body considering the topic. "I don't remember much about it, but I know I still have a big chunk of limestone from the Quarry there in Cedar Creek. It's an ugly rock, no wonder he threw them away." Her fingers begin to unbutton my shirt and she places more kisses against the skin she reveals. When she reaches my abdomen I pull her back up, move her beneath me, and we both forget all about limestone, and "cluttered, undusted minds." We make slow, tender love right there, in the soft glow of table lamps and firelight. Carefully banishing the dark memories of another sofa that I see for only a brief moment in the glow of her eyes and the remembrance of the shared memory of her mind._

_When it flickers between us I turn onto my back, taking her with me until she is astride me, her skin, kissed by the firelight and passion, glows. I give her the power and the control, my hands on her nothing more than soft caresses meant to worship and pleasure, never to restrain. She takes me inside, watching my face, and I show her the love I feel, the adoration and passion that turns my eyes black, guiding her when she hesitates, urging her to find her pleasure in the use of my body. Hers. I am hers and hers alone, whatever she needs, however she needs it..._

_Her head falls back and her back bows. The ends of her silken hair brush my thighs while her nails dig for purchase in my chest, trembling the way only a woman being well loved can tremble. My fingers touch her where we're joined, gently manipulating her until she shudders with the first waves of a deep, hard release. I can feel the contractions of it fluttering over the glans and shaft of my penis and I fight the echoing pull of it, striving to keep my movements measured and precise and consistent, taking her back into her bliss before her first climax is even fully complete. When she collapses against me I catch her in my arms, my hands cupping her face, our lips moving softly and hungrily together. I bring her back beneath me and her eyes open, trusting and warm. I tell her I love her as I begin to move again, with more urgency this time. Her legs rise to wrap around my hips and I know that once again Jacob has been pushed back to the dark edges of our existence, just as I know that soon he won't even exist there anymore... Day by day, moment by moment, kiss by kiss, touch by touch, we are banishing him for good._

I let the remembered feelings wash over me in the present and cannot continue to lament her lack of sleep or even her fatigue. She reminds me often how soon she won't need sleep at all, and I will not deny her or myself the moments like last night that are like treasures in my mind, nor will I allow guilt to taint them.

I watch now as Bella emerges from the greenhouse. Esme flits quickly to her side, wrapping a forgotten shawl around her to protect her from the rapidly cooling day and placing a soft kiss against her temple. She keeps her arms around Bella's shoulders as they make their way back to the house. I can hear Esme laughing, and see Bella's smile over some shared joke about Marigolds that I've missed in my reminiscence.

Behind me I hear Carlisle enter and he joins me at the window, a small smile flitting across his face at the sight below us. He's quiet, as are his thoughts, though he radiates contentment and I know it is because Esme is happy.

"I want to ask her if she wants to see her Mother," I tell him. She's been dreaming of Renee the last few nights, calling for her in a small voice filled with longing and sadness.

"She isn't well enough to travel, Edward. You know that." His admonishment is gentle.

"Yes." I do know it. Though she's been so much better emotionally that it can be easy at times to ignore the physical symptoms that linger like a malignant shadow. "I could bring Renee here," I tell him and he nods. As we've discussed before, the dangers of such a visit are multitude, but worth the risk should Bella want it. In my eyes anyway. His mind shows he isn't so certain, though he refrains from saying so, even in his thoughts.

Bella and Esme stop to look at some plants Esme placed near the west side of the house. Winter hardy ones have replaced the summer plantings, half eaten by a brave doe that had wandered into the yard a week ago. Charlie and Jasper both speak of it, the memory of her visit tinged with something reverent that has been enough to make Jasper avoid any doe while out hunting.

Bella watches Esme easily shift the heavy urn-like pots, and my mind drifts to yesterday, Bella's birthday. She'd wanted it quiet, and for once even Alice did not need to be reined in. The day had been spent quietly without fanfare. Wanting to at least acknowledge that the day had significance, I'd taken her to a small town of Healy, just 12 miles outside of the Park. Close enough that we could be back to the lodge quickly should Bella experience any kind of issue, be it medical or emotional. Since she had not been on an outing of any kind since before the attack, Bella was excited and eager to go, for once not even arguing about expense or trouble or any of the other things she would normally find to worry about. Healy is beyond small, but aside from being a coal mining town it is mostly a tourist destination, providing a decent if not vastly numbered selection of restaurants and quaint little shops.

_I'd taken her for dinner at a small family run restaurant where she'd grimaced and smiled in equal turns at the various stuffed animal heads on the walls, and the contradictory gingham style table clothes with candles in glass holders. A wall to the left of our table was covered in signatures and small notes from patrons past and present, and Bella and I had added our names. She'd rolled her eyes at me when I'd circled them with a heart, but her eyes had sparked, both with silent laughter and pleasure at my corny actions. _

_The waitress and part owner took an immediate liking to Bella. From her mind I discerned that Bella reminded her of her daughter, long since grown and moved away, escaping the boredom and desolation that so many young people view as the trapping of small towns. She fussed over Bella even as she stayed wary and uncertain of me, her eyes flicking to me nervously at first, until she saw me take Bella's hand and place a kiss on her wrist. Saw the way our hands stayed linked, or the way I fed her small bites from the entree I'd ordered to give Bella a selection I'd hoped might tempt her appetite. The pleasure and love Bella emanated at my touch, not to mention the blush, warmed me considerably to her and by the end of the meal she was no longer anxious in my presence. Instead she smiled warmly at me while bringing the leftovers in their Styrofoam containers to the table. Bella had excused herself to use the restroom and so I was alone as she placed them in front of me._

"_Now," she said, quickly scooping up the few remaining dirty dishes. "I've packed some desert for the two of you, some of my famous spice cake. It's on the house of course." I make the perfunctory protest already knowing she'll refuse. She gives me a stern look that reminds me of Esme and huffs quietly. "None of that young man," she admonishes with a smile. "You and your lovely wife brightened my day considerably." She taps the container containing the cake and lowers her voice, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Bella isn't returning. "It's chock full of cinnamon and nutmeg and ginger. All good for the stomach," she tells me. "I know the current trend is all about a girl being thin, but as lovely as that little thing of yours is, she could use a little meat on her bones and she barely ate a thing." She gives me what I suspect is meant to be the evil eye, and I just barely refrain from smiling as her mind wonders if she's misjudged me at all and that perhaps I'm one of those men. The type that thinks women should all look like anorexic models and who don't know how to appreciate a real woman's body._

"_I agree," I tell her, keeping my expression open and friendly. "She's been unwell," I offer in explanation when she narrows her eyes at me suspiciously._

_Her features soften instantly. "Oh! Poor dear. Nothing serious I hope?"_

"_It was," I reply quietly, my eyes going to Bella as she rounds the corner at the other end of the restaurant. Something in my tone or face must betray the pain of my confession because she instantly pushes away the last of her natural trepidation regarding me and places her hand on mine where it rests on the table. The action is so unexpected lost as I am in the sight of Bella walking towards me, a small smile playing over her face as she watched the interaction, that I don't pull back right away. She registers my coldness with alarm and pulls back herself. Turning my attention back to her and the necessary damage control, I place my napkin on the table and rise slowly to my feet, smiling with genuine warmth and graciousness. "But it won't be long now," I say, "and she'll be completely well again."_

Carlisle draws me away from the memory when he turns from the window to face me, his thoughts alerting me to his words before he speaks them. I feel alarm race over my nerve endings.

"I finished up with Bella's latest blood work."

For obvious reasons I kept my distance when Carlisle ran the small amount of blood he drew from her every few days for his battery of tests. Though I hadn't forgotten, he'd been carefully guarding the latest results and I've been sufficiently distracted enough that I hadn't noticed. He turns and picks up the plain white folder off the piano that contains the results he'd like me to see. I take them from his hand and scan them feeling my silent heart drop at what I see.

"Her blood pressure is rising again," I tell him needlessly, the numbers showing clear proof that once again the medication Carlisle is providing is failing. She's also showing signs of Anemia once again, though Carlisle and I had both thought that was under control as well. I shut my eyes and close the folder, frustration pooling in every dormant cell in my body until I fear I will scream with the need to release it. "Damn it, Carlisle. GOD DAMN IT! Why the hell is this happening? Why is she continuing to deteriorate before our very eyes?" My fingers rake through my hair as I slam the folder back down on the piano. The polished wood groans and a two foot crack appears, running from the right hand corner to the center. I barely notice as I sit on the bench and bow my head into my hands with a growling groan that reverberates through the room.

Still at the window, Carlisle's answers my useless question with a useless answer. Could I not hear the equal frustration underlying his tone, I might have snapped at him. Since I can, I only grunt in response.

"I don't know, son. I've run every test I can think of, nothing is giving me any solid answers." He thinks of the Volturi and his growing desire to have access to their vast array of recorded histories. Somewhere, at some time, perhaps this has happened before. Some other pre-transition human experiencing symptoms of a gift that coincides with failing health. I snarl at him wordlessly and he empties his mind of his useless wish for information we cannot dare ask for. His look is apologetic and helpless, and my sympathy for him allows me to control my own emotions. Jamming my fingers in my hair one last time and nearly tearing out the roots, I get on my feet and shake my head at him.

"It doesn't matter. She's emotionally stronger every day. It won't be long now." I join him at the window and watch as Bella smiles at Alice who has just come out of the house.

"Bella come on. The True Blood marathon on HBO is starting in ten minutes. We have just enough time to make you popcorn." Alice is nearly bouncing right out of her shoes.

Bella grimaces, an adorable look of contrived horror on her face. "Vampires who burn up in the sun? Alice, really?"

"You'll love it, I promise."

Carlisle turns to face me, his expression tight. He thinks of the easiest solution to all of this, focussing on the fact that Alice has continued to see visions of Bella's change going well. Though she sees little of what will happen afterwards, gone are the bloody images of Bella shielding in response to the physical torture of the venom, hemorrhaging before our helpless eyes. "_What_ are you waiting for, Edward?"

Below us, Alice gently begins drawing Bella towards the house, giving her no choice but to follow. As though she's known I was there all along, Bella's eyes lift to me and she mouths the silent word 'help'. Despite the strain of everything I feel, I smile back at her. She blows me a kiss before vanishing into the doorway, Alice yelling at me in her mind to forget it. _You've hogged her to yourself long enough, brother mine. Go play some more music or something._

"Esme are you coming?" she yells out loud.

"Oh no, not me. Vampire shows scare me, dear."

I hear Bella make a fizzing sound in her throat, not quite a laugh, but close, so close. My teeth clench around my answer.

"I'm waiting, Carlisle, for the day when something as simple as making love to her on a sofa doesn't create shadows in her eyes. I'm waiting for her to sleep one night, just one damned night without nightmares." The words come out harder than I want them to, bitten off as if the simple act of speaking them out loud, forcefully and passionately, will help make them come true.

I watch Bella through Alice's eyes as she helps Esme make popcorn she most likely won't eat, knowing she's doing it to ease them.

"I'm waiting," I continue, the pain and sadness leaking into my voice now, suddenly needing to swallow the venom that pools in my mouth with the desire to not wait any longer at all, despite what I say out loud. "I'm waiting," I repeat, softer now, "for her to laugh, just one time, the way she used to."

Carlisle's expression has softened and he nods.

"Most of all, I'm waiting because I _promised_ _her_ that I would. When she's ready. When it is enough, she'll tell me, Carlisle." Alice's words of warning from our wedding day ring in my head and now his as well with my reminder.

_"It has to be her choice, Edward. You have to let her decide when. It's the only way I see things being okay."_

Carlisle's mind begins to rapidly run through her latest symptoms and the treatments, adding them to Bella's ever growing list of medications. The ticking of a clock is loud in his mind as the options for successful treatments grow less and less. He squeezes my shoulder, his thoughts going to Esme. Snapshot like images of her, still as a human, covered in blood and wounds fill his mind.

He manages a rueful smile in my direction, his mind reciting a quote from Walden. *"_If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them." "_It's never easy, son," he tells me out loud. "It's never perfect."

"I know that."

He nods again, his hand falling to his side. _She'll never be exactly as she was, Edward. She's different now, this has changed her. Not every wound heals cleanly. Can you accept that?_

"I don't want her as she was, Carlisle," I answer his unspoken words quietly, turning back to the window and looking out at the fading day. "I want her as she is."

He turns to the window as well and together we watch the shadows fall on the yard. Downstairs Alice places a pillow on her lap and Bella lays her head down. Beside her on the table the popcorn bowl is untouched and as Alice begins to run her fingers through Bella's hair her eyes close and she falls asleep. Through Alice's eyes and thoughts, I register and feel double the fear and concern at how pale she is, how incredibly fragile she appears.

"She'll tell me when it's time, Carlisle." I say again, reminding myself of all the reasons I must trust in her now.

Too late I catch the sound of retreating footsteps and the whisper quiet thoughts of a mind nearly as impenetrable as that of his daughter. I close my eyes, regretting that he's heard what he has because I know that watching Bella fail is killing something deep inside of Charlie Swan that may never recover.

"She has to, Carlisle," I repeat. "She has to."

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A/N This chapter ended up with over 3,500 words coming from Charlie's POV that were not planned, at all. Apparently, Charlie had some issues of his own he needed to work through, who knew. Not me, I'm just the freaking writer and though I like to believe this is my baby, the characters have a way of proving me wrong. ;) So, that means my previous assumption that I'd be wrapping this story up in 3 chapters, including this one, has once again gone out the freaking window. Again! So fine. I give up! I have no idea how many chapters this story will end up at when I finally write 'The End'. It'll be what it will be. That is if the f&%king thing doesn't kill me first!

In all seriousness, I felt like Charlie deserved his own 'moment' of purging and letting go, as did Jasper. And now that we are so close to the end, I felt it was important to bring the last of that night and how it affected them all, out into the open. I hope you agree.


	49. Chapter 49

**Falling Beyond Redemption**

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**Chapter 49**

Fates Requiem

**Charlie's POV**

I stop in the doorway and watch Alice and Bella, my head reeling from what I just overheard, though I don't really know why. Something different, I guess, about speculating that Bella's not getting any better, and hearing it straight out of Carlisle's mouth. Something different as well when you know things in your head than when you're watching them play out in front of your eyes.

Alice's small fingers run through Bella's hair, the motion almost hypnotic in the way her white skin looks against all those dark strands, the TV lights flickering over the room and them. Bella looks peaceful sleeping, all those little lines in her forehead smoothed out. The lines I know now are there because she's in constant pain. The sight in front of me should ease my mind, instead my heart hurts. How many times had I stood over her crib when she was a baby wondering how something so precious could exist, and thinking how I'd do anything to make sure she was safe and happy? I'd learned right quick the day Renee packed up and left with her how powerless I was. I remember feeling like a failure. It feels a lot like how I feel now.

I hear him coming up behind me, maybe because I'm expecting him, or maybe because he's moving in a way that lets me hear him. I can never tell with Edward. Heading down the hall without acknowledging him, I make my way to the kitchen knowing he'll follow after he's had his own minute to check on her. I want a beer but settle for coffee, the actions of making it helping to soothe my rattled nerves, though I don't need the caffeine. When I turn around he's standing at the large, sliding glass door that leads out to a huge deck. It's dark now and I can see his reflection in the glass. His eyes seem focused on something far away.

"I'm sorry you overheard that," he says quietly without turning around. I lean against the counter and take a drink from the mug in my hand. The liquid sloshes a little in the cup. My hands are trembling.

"Not like I didn't know she's not getting better. I have eyes." My voice is gruff so I clear my throat, feeling awkward and half afraid my shaking hands are going to make me spill hot coffee all over myself like an idiot. I sit at the table, setting the cup down but keeping my hands curled around it. They're cold and the heat is nice.

When I look up he's sitting across from me. It's some kind of testament to how much I've adapted that I don't jump out of my skin. Still, I haven't adapted so much that I don't have the ingrained desire to offer to make him a coffee, stupid as that is. Politeness and consideration drilled into me through an entire lifetime of normal protocols are hard to shake. I take a gulp of my own to smother the urge and scald the roof of my mouth and the lining of my throat, wincing a little despite myself. I don't see him move, but there's a bottle of cold water in front of me when my eyelids open on a routine, split-second blink.

"I'm still sorry you overheard," he repeats. "Apart from her condition, I said some things that perhaps a Father may be uncomfortable hearing."

"_I'm waiting, Carlisle, for the day when something as simple as making love to her on a sofa doesn't create shadows in her eyes."_

I clear my throat again and wisely drink out of the water bottle this time. The cold soothes the lingering sting from the burn and I manage a small, noncommittal grunt in reply. He smiles a little in response; his eyes, so much damn older than he looks on the surface, reminding me yet again what he is. As if I need the reminder.

My head spins through a bunch of thoughts I know he can hear, and his eyes turn dark at the last one I couldn't say out loud if I tried.

_She's dying._

I watch his left hand curl into a fist, but his face stays locked down in that emotionless void he's so good at projecting.

"I understand that it feels that way to you."

"Do you?" My tone is less than friendly and I regret it instantly. I don't want to do this with him, but it's like falling back on old habits to blame him, to hold him responsible. "I'm sorry," I tell him, instantly contrite. "I just... I want to... I can't seem to..."

"Charlie."

I look up and his eyes are so damn black, I feel like I'm getting dragged into them. His jaw is clenched and he leans forward. The action and the look of him should be menacing, but instead it's the opposite.

"I understand," he repeats, the emphasis on the words conveying so many different things, reminding me that I'm not the only one who blames himself, who struggles with what's going to happen. This is hard for him too, and for the first time I get it. I _really_ get it. It's actually harder for him. I might have to accept her choice, but he's the one who actually has to make it a reality.

I relax back in my chair and the silence stretches out between us, not really uncomfortable, just heavy with all the things not being said. I break it tentatively.

"Tell me what happens. What it's like, what it will be like for her, to...?"

"No."

A part of me that doesn't really want to know is grateful for the answer, another part is frustrated. I've lived so long now with my own head up my ass. It's part of what led us here in the first place. All the secrets and lies. He sees the look on my face and knows by the thoughts running through my head that I'm about to argue.

"Charlie, listen to me. Nothing can be gained by you knowing. It cannot comfort you or help you accept this."

There's a clock on the wall and my eyes are drawn to it as though it will answer what he won't. Or at the very least give me a time. Not that I want some hellish deadline looming over my head, dictating the countdown of my daughter's mortality. Right?

"I'm not looking for comfort, Edward. I just want answers. I just want to be in the goddamn loop."

He's quiet for a long minute, those jet black eyes moving back and forth over mine while I fight like hell to give him nothing, keeping my mind as blank as a sheet of paper. His lips quirk a bit and he sighs. I think I see some of the dark go out of his eyes, but he looks away before I can really tell.

"You have no idea how infuriating that is." He returns his gaze and yep, his eyes are definitely lighter, the quirked lips forming into an easy smile that transforms him from menacing to beautiful. I blink, more than a little uncomfortable with thinking that way about my daughter's husband, but damn the kid is good looking. Not that he's a kid...hell.

I shake my head and he laughs quietly, before turning serious again when I let him back in my head a little.

_Tell me. _"I already know too much, Edward; you've all said that repeatedly. So why should this be any different?"

He answers me with a question. "You overheard my conversation with Carlisle. One part of which was very personal. Would you have asked me to explain that?"

I balk and literally cringe back a little, feeling the heat in my face. "Of course not," I answer gruffly. "That's between a man and his wife. Personal like you said, private. Of course I wouldn't."

"This is the same, Charlie. Bella's change is no less intimate or sacred to me than that. It is solely between us. Our decision. Our time. Our choice. I am no more comfortable in discussing the details of it than you would be in asking for details regarding the comment you overheard."

Maybe I just really don't want to know, but I find myself hearing what he says and deciding to let it go. I respect his answer, even if I don't like being denied. If I'm being honest what I really respect the hell out of, is him. And not only respect but also trust, and damned if that doesn't take a second to fully sink in. When it does, I realize something. I didn't get a chance to walk Bella down the aisle. Didn't get to formally put her hand in Edward's and give my blessing in the traditional way I always imagined I would, but I don't need a ceremony or an audience. What I need, all I ever really needed, he's already given me. He is her life now and it's time for me to give her to him and walk away, just like any other father.

"It's time for me to go home, Edward." My voice falters because as much as I know it's time, it still hurts like hell. I know when I walk out that door it could very well be the last time I ever see her. Edward may not have given me details, but I'm a cop, well versed in reading between the lines and hearing what's not said. This is dangerous. She might not survive. And if she does, well, she won't be the same; I have to face that, too. With a tight throat I push up on my feet and take my coffee mug to the sink, dumping the liquid I couldn't swallow now if I tried.

"There is time yet, Charlie."

I nod, because I know that. He'd told Carlisle he was waiting for Bella to decide, and even I can see she isn't quite ready yet no matter how sick she is. She wants more time. More time with Edward, the way they are now, probably more time with me as well. I feel bad that I can't give her that, but I understand my limitations. I can be strong enough to accept this; I can be strong enough to forgive myself and maybe even to forgive Jacob Black one day. I can be strong enough to understand that this is how it is supposed to be for her.

But I can't watch her die.

Not even knowing that she'll be reborn as something...else.

I can't do it.

Edward's hand lands on my shoulder and I know he's seen and heard all of that in my head. He doesn't say anything else, but the light squeeze of his fingers tells me he understands.

From the other room I hear Emmett calling for me, like he doesn't know where I am, which I highly doubt. It's more likely that he's letting me and Edward know he's on his way into the room. He's a bit of a stickler for routines and doing things his own way, and the clock on the wall tells me he's been about as generous as he's likely to get as far as any leeway in my schedule.

"Shit," I mutter. "I don't suppose you could tell him I already left? Maybe let me hide out in a broom closet until he gets tired of looking for me?"

Edward laughs and the sound is soft and surprisingly genuine. I haven't heard him laugh in a long time. He pats my back in sympathy. His touch is damn gentle in comparison to Emmett's; guess he's had a lot more practice.

"You can laugh, son, but one more of your brother's 'rubdowns' and Carlisle's going to have some serious patchwork to do on my joints and bones."

"Hey. I heard that," Emmett quips as he enters the room, carrying the liniment oil he uses in my nightly torture in one hand and the beer he uses to bribe me not to whine in the other. "I'll have you know, my Rosie says I give the best massages ever."

"Your wife is made of stronger stuff than me, Emmett, literally and figuratively."

Emmett guffaws, winking at Edward. I see something more serious pass between them and Emmett's voice is quieter when he speaks this time. "Alright, Pops. I'll tell you what. You can spend twenty minutes in the hot tub tonight instead, deal?"

I snag the beer out of his hand and grin back. "Deal."

**Bella's POV**

Charlie's been gone for three days and the house seems so much quieter now that I'm the only human. I'd never noticed before how much noise everyone made in an effort to help Charlie be comfortable around them until the absence of it.

I miss him. Being able to spend time with Charlie here had been incredibly precious. The last few days before he'd left, we'd completely cleared the air between us in our usual quiet way. We'd eaten together in the kitchen, the same as we had at home before everything went to hell. He'd complimented my cooking, or Esme's if I'd been too tired, and helped me clean up. We'd sat together in the living room and watched sports on the satellite where he'd comment occasionally on the game and every now and then, pat my hand. The normality crossed the last of the gulf between us, more being said in the quiet than could ever be voiced out loud.

On his last night we sat in the kitchen long after the dishes were washed and put away, sipping the peppermint tea I'd made. Even though I know he didn't really like it, he did a good job of hiding the grimace that came with every forced swallow.

"_I think I'll have one of those brownies. You want one, kid?"_

_I'd smiled as I watched Charlie's eyes dart to the doorway as though he expected Carlisle to swoop in and tell him brownies weren't on the preferred diet list. The one thing I know Charlie has hated more than anything is being limited on what he can eat. Red meat has been off the table completely and I'd caught him more than once scowling down at a chicken breast on his plate with the look of a condemned man._

"_Sure, Dad. I'll get it..."_

"_No, you just sit and finish your tea. I've got it." I'd watched him move around the kitchen gathering plates and napkins. He'd selected a small piece from the tray on the counter, sliding it on the plate with minimal mess. I'd frowned a bit when he'd placed the cover back on the tray without taking out a second, wondering if he'd changed his mind, only to see him head straight for the cupboard with the secret stash of 'magic' brownies. He placed one of those on the other plate and set it in front of me before sitting down with his own. My mouth had fallen open and he'd looked up at me with laughter in his eyes, my secret stash apparently not so secret._

"_How did you...?"_

"_I've been around a while, Bells, and I wouldn't make much of a cop if I didn't recognize the smell of marijuana," he'd answered with a grin. "It's been all over the house a time or two, and what with Jasper pulling that stunt with switching them around that first week I was here? Well, let's just say, they're all damn good at keeping secrets, but they're lousy at hiding a stash."_

_I had felt a blush burning up the sides of my face. "Aren't you upset?" I'd asked him incredulously, wanting to know who he was and what he'd done with my police chief father._

_The grin had faded and his eyes looked a little sad. "I know about medical marijuana, Bella. I might be a cop, but I'm always going to be your Dad first, you know that right?"_

_I nodded then, feeling tears prickle the edges of my eyes as I'd reached out for his hand. He'd taken it and squeezed a little too hard, but I didn't care. "I love you, Dad."_

"_Yeah, me too, kid, me too." He'd pulled his hand back and swiped at his eyes. "Listen, while we're being all mushy anyway, I have something for you." Taking a small box out of his shirt pocket, the flannel snagging a little on the edge before he'd placed it in front of me. "I got this for you, thought it'd make a good birthday present, but then you didn't want any birthday presents, so I guess now's as good a time as any to give it to you." He'd huffed out an exaggerated breath and pushed the small white box towards me with his finger._

"_Dad..."_

"_Just open it, Bells."_

_I'd slid the lid off and pulled a blue velvet box out from inside. My hands had been sweating a little as I'd rubbed my fingers over the soft material before opening it. Nestled inside, a daughter's pride ring caught the overhead lights, the three stones sparkling in the white gold band. It's pretty, but simple and very me. Charlie and Renee's birthstones offset mine like an embrace and the tears that had prickled spilt over like rainfall. _

"_I know the choices you're making aren't easy ones, but I know they're the right ones for you, Bells. I can see that now. I can let you go..." The words had choked in his throat and I was up off the chair and in his lap before he was done, my face buried in his neck while he patted my back and rocked a little like he used to when I was little. "I just wanted you to have a little something so that no matter where you go, you'll always remember where you came from, okay?"_

Pulling my mind back to the present, I spin the ring on my finger as the memory fades and smile, hoping I'll never forget it. I've taken to writing down things I don't want to forget in another journal that Jasper has gotten for me. I don't know what happened to the first one, and that's for the best. I suspect Jasper or Edward has put it away somewhere for safe keeping, but it doesn't really matter. It served its purpose, and I doubt I'll ever want to read what I'd written again.

My mind drifts for awhile, something that seems to be happening a lot lately. Fighting against it, I get up to add another log to the fire. It doesn't really need it, but moving helps me stay grounded and resist the pull of my own head which seems stronger than my will power anymore. The last week has been the most difficult in that regard, and I know I'm no longer capable of hiding what's happening. Not that I'm intentionally keeping anything a secret. I'd promised Edward and Carlisle I would tell them if anything changed. I just don't know how to explain this.

I suppose this weird feeling should be scary, but oddly enough it isn't. Maybe I'm not capable of getting freaked out anymore, I think with a smile. And anyway, it isn't really a new feeling or experience, it's just...stronger.

I drift down the hallway, my hand running lightly over the walls not really seeing the honey coloured oak panels that feel like little ripples under my fingers. What's in front of me fades out and is replaced by another hallway. The one in my head. The one that keeps calling me back no matter how hard I try to resist. Although the truth is, I'm not trying very hard anymore. It's a compelling place. Like a puzzle. Endlessly long with dozens upon dozens of doors, it pricks and prods at me, wanting to be solved...

"Bella?"

I blink and the corridor dissolves. I find myself in Carlisle's office, standing in the middle of the room. I don't know how long I've been there, or if I intended to come here at all in the first place.

"Bella," Carlisle repeats and he's standing in front of me now. Was he there before? "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," I tell him, and behind him the ghost corridor opens wide, one of the doors rattling gently in its frame. Carlisle's door. Of course. It's so obvious now...

"Are you certain? You seem distracted."

With a monumental effort I haven't exuded in days, I drag myself out of my head and smile at him in what I hope is a reassuring way, willing the corners of the room and all its various items to become solid. "I'm sorry. I'm just a bit tired, I guess. I wondered if you'd read to me, my eyes are sore."

"Of course, sweetheart." I settle into the window seat pulling a blanket over my lap, realizing for the first time there actually is a book in my hand. Had I intended to come here then? I hand it to Carlisle, careful to keep my expression unsurprised by its appearance. He takes it and smiles at the cover, though honestly I have no idea what it is. "Are we starting at the beginning?"

Are we? "Um, yes, I think so?"

Carlisle's eyes narrow speculatively, and I realize I'm going to need to focus even more before he starts to become really concerned.

"Do you not know, Bella?"

I peek surreptitiously at the cover and see the familiar Wuthering Heights title. Instantly comforted by the sight of my favourite book, I settle myself against the pillows and shrug at Carlisle sheepishly. "It doesn't really matter. The beginning is good."

He nods, opening the cover and settling into the chair closest to me. As the familiar words in Carlisle's soothing voice fill the room, I feel lulled and peaceful. The corridor beckons, but it's easier to resist now which is good. It's giving me a headache.

. . . . . .

Carlisle has changed my medications, again. Whatever he's done with the colourful cocktail of pills has made it easier to ignore the strange corridor in my head. It's fuzzy now, no longer clear and I'm mildly frustrated by that. I sense that if I could just figure out the labyrinth of corridors and doors, I might be able to get a handle on my so-called shield.

A nightmare early this morning at 3 a.m. had me shielding everyone in the house and sending poor Alice into the vampire equivalent of a panic attack. Something I'd like not to do again anytime soon. Both for myself and the miserable excruciating headache that it caused, and especially for the fear and misery I'd put poor Alice through.

Edward and I aren't the only ones carrying around excess baggage from what happened.

"Do you miss Charlie, Bella?"

"Is Alice feeling better today, Jasper?"

We speak over top of each other and Jasper chuckles. I get up off the huge overstuffed chair I'd been curled up in and join Jasper on the piano bench, running my fingers over the cool, ivory keys. We're in the music room today because it's too cold for our usual walk, at least for the human, and I'm feeling a little claustrophobic and restless.

"Alice is fine, sugar. You know her; nothing gets her down for long." He accents the words with a heavy southern drawl in an effort to make me smile, which it does. Taking my hand he uses my fingers to play a slightly discordant version of chopsticks, and the smile on my face grows. Edward, even all the way at the other side of the Lodge in the huge garage with Rose and Emmett, is no doubt cringing at the abuse to his precious piano.

They're changing the tires on the vehicles today, preparing for the onslaught of snow a purple-bruised sky is threatening to unleash sometime between now and nightfall. Edward, striving as always to give me some semblance of privacy during my time spent with Jasper, even if it means enduring Emmett's relentless ribbing about our sex life.

"I do miss him," I offer in reply to his question about Charlie. "But I'd be lying if I didn't say it's easier now that he's gone."

"How so?"

I shrug, striving for the right words to explain. "He worries about me. It's hard for him to accept all this. I mean he has. I think he understands for the most part, but..."

"But he's always going to be your Daddy."

I nod at Jasper's simplified answer. It's as good as any. "It's better that he goes back to his life, back to all things normal. Or as normal as they can be with a wolf pack looking out for him," I add with another shrug. "And now I can just…relax."

He smiles at that as my fingers fidget some more over the keys, plucking out several notes, nervous energy my only type of energy these days. He chooses not to comment on that though.

"And Renee? Have you made any decisions regarding her?" he asks instead.

Renee has been a popular topic of discussion between Edward and me as of late. He thinks I should consider seeing her, before I can't anymore. Carlisle doesn't agree, though he hasn't said as much out loud. They both agree it's my decision in the end, but I've read enough of the silent looks that pass between them to know what side of the fence Carlisle is on.

For myself I've been hopelessly divided. "I want to see her, Jasper, but I don't think I can." I run my fingertips lightly over the scales without actually playing them, trying to sort my thoughts and put my new conclusions into words that will make the best sense. "She'll know I'm not right," I continue. "Renee can be flighty, but she'll take one look at me right now and she'll now. Carlisle says I can tell her I'm anaemic, it's close to the truth and shouldn't freak her out too much, especially if we tell her its under control, or getting there."

"But?" he prods when I trail off, getting distracted by the small smears of oil the pads of my fingers leave on the otherwise pristine and smudge-free keys. I use my sleeves to wipe them off and then shove my hands under my legs on the bench to keep from leaving any new ones.

"I don't want to lie anymore, Jasper," I tell him with a huff, not knowing if he'll understand. Vampire lives are all about lying, so maybe I'll sound naïve to him. "Not to her," I add to try and clarify. "Not straight to her face, and I would have to if I saw her now. It isn't like before, when I could just be evasive." Unable to sit still any longer, I get up and go to the window. It emits the cold, radiating it through the glass and my breath fogs on its surface in small opaque circles. I find the sensation of cold instantly soothing and resist the silly urge to draw sad faces in my breath induced condensation. The clouds keep brewing up above, looking more tempestuous by the minute. I bet the air smells like snow, and once again I wish we were outside.

"This could be your last chance for closure, Bella." Jasper draws me again back to the present. He's playing devil's advocate; he has to know I've made up my mind.

"I've thought this through, Jasper, and I think I've gotten all the closure I'm going to get. Seeing Renee now, it's dangerous, for her, for us. It's one thing to have Charlie know, that's bad enough, but the Pack - what's left of it - can't protect Renee and Phil in Florida." My heart hurts saying the words out loud, admitting that the things I suspect worry Carlisle the most are valid. Renee and Phil can never know about this world. The last thing I can do for my Mother before I give up the life she gave me is protect her from the darker side of my choice.

I feel the tears burn hot in my eyes and knots form in my throat that try to prevent me from saying the last part of my conclusions out loud. Blinking and swallowing them away I take a deep breath, dragging the air through my lungs roughly.

"Maybe I can't get closure, but I can try and give it to her," I whisper.

Jasper is quiet, but I feel him move closer to me.

"I'm going to call her, tonight," I tell him, my vision beginning to blur until the dark swells of clouds blend together like one. "Tell her that Edward and I've eloped, and that we're taking a sailboat around the coast of Maine for our honeymoon. I'll tell her we'll send her a postcard from Swans Island, she'll love that." I try to laugh at my precociously simple mother, but it just comes out like a sob. "When it doesn't come, she'll get worried, but not right away." Jasper's cold hand touches the small of my back and I press my forehead to the even colder glass. "After a few days she'll call Charlie, and he'll have to tell her that he's sorry, he's been waiting to hear, not wanting to worry her, but no one can reach us. Maybe we'll get lucky and a storm will brew up somewhere, maybe Alice can see that ahead of time and put our imaginary sailboat on that path…" My voice breaks.

"Hush now, darlin. It's okay," Jasper murmurs as my throat closes tighter around every word.

I work on my breathing, slow ins and outs. Tasting the vanilla and sandalwood lushness that makes up Jasper's particular prey allure, feeling the waves of calm he emits, proud of myself for being able to keep my shield down. It isn't every day one plans their own death after all.

The room is quiet except for my sniffling, Jasper giving me time to regain my composure. I feel better for finally having said the words out loud, which he'll know.

"Maybe Alice and I will have to piggy back on this romantic yet ill fated imaginary adventure of yours," he chuckles quietly, as though he doesn't want to completely break the silence. "I've been itchin to try out one of those new aliases Jenks made up for us last year. What do you think of the names Jackson and Ashley Rathbone? Pretty upper class sounding, don't you think? Maybe I should be Jackson Rathbone the third, or something equally pretentious," he jokes.

"Rathbone?" I can't help but smile around my sniffles. "I guess that's better than Edward Long Wong," I tease, referring to one of Edward's less than dignified aliases thanks to Emmett's interventions.

Jasper snorts. "Serves him right for letting Emmett have control and not checking up on him. He's damn lucky Emmett still can't type worth beans. Not that he was the only one who's gotten suckered in by Emmett's twisted sense of humour. Carlisle walked around for nearly a year once as Doctor Armand Hammer in the 60's. Alice intervened and saved herself from becoming Anita Goodman and Esme from being stuck as Ella Vader. But she was a tad bit cranky with me that day and I almost ended up as Jack Goff, her suggestion not Emmett's by the way."

I shake my head with a grin, feeling an unfamiliar giggle tickle my throat. "Wow, you must have really made her mad."

"Let's just say she had a little Austen Mini Cooper that she adored that may or may not have gotten wrapped around a tree after a bet with Emmett went awry."

"And you didn't end up as Jack Goff how after that?"

He winked at me, taking my hand and tugging me away from the window. "Simple," he answered, his grin large and dazzling. "I just told Emmett I wouldn't tell Alice about the bet, and even better, I wouldn't tell Rose that he'd seriously been considering for a second giving her and him the aliases, Rhoda and Seymour Bush."

The giggle in my throat bursts out at that. It's too easy to envision the horrified look that must have come over Emmett's face at the thought of Rose finding that one out. She would have dismembered him.

"I'll have to remember that," I laugh shaking my head. "Future blackmail if he keeps making snide comments about me and Edward and our…"

The words die in my throat as Edward suddenly comes around the corner, the strangest most intense look on his face. He's in front of me before I can blink, his hands tangled in my hair, fingers wrapped gently around my skull like cradles as he tips my face up to scrutinize me so intensely it makes me breathless.

"You've been crying."

I bite my lip and his eyes dart down, watching me do it for a moment, conflicting emotions crossing his face too fast to read properly.

"Why?"

"I made my decision about Renee," I tell him quietly and without hesitation. "I've decided to do what we talked about, the sailboat…" I can't quite finish the rest, but I don't need to. A small hiss washes my face in his sweet breath and he rests his cool forehead against mine, closing his eyes for a moment.

"You're certain?" he asks so quietly I barely hear him.

"Yes." The tears come back sharp and stinging, my roller coaster emotions so damn hard to pin down, though this time I'm not crying out of sadness. It's more out of relief, as though having finally made this last decision I can let go even though it hurts like hell to think of what this will do to Renee. And yet, this _is_ Renee. She'll mourn and grieve and a piece of her heart will always be broken, but she'll have the best closure I can give her. She'll move on, I know she will. She has Phil, she's not alone, she will be okay.

As horrible as the idea of her facing my death is, the alternatives are something I truly can't bear. I won't fill her life with lies, one after the other as she begs me to come see her, to spend time with her, to visit as years go by, each passing month that I avoid her killing everything that was ever good and right between us. The holidays, the birthdays, the long weekends she won't understand my avoidance of. The endless weaving of lies and illusions I will have to spin that will never be enough in the end to keep her from being devastated by my absences, the uncertainty of what she did wrong to cause my cold dismissals growing over time to eat her alive.

And I won't, I _can't_, ever ask her to carry the burden Charlie does. To know the world is nothing like what she thinks, to take away her innocent happy belief in harmless magic and friendly guardian angels only to fill it with vampires and werewolves from her nightmares. I won't tear away her child-like wonder with the world and fill it with fear, or ask her to keep secrets she won't be able to keep. Not Renee whose mind is too trusting, too innocent, too naïve, always believing in the goodness of everyone. She'd slip eventually. I know she would. And then the consequences will brutalize us all. Forcing us at best to be bodyguards, never leaving her side, stifling her in our constant presence and the constant threats that she'll never truly be able to comprehend. And that at the very least, for the other consequences of her inability to keep our secret are so much more horrific than even that.

Edward's thumbs instantly brush away the few small tears that escape before I blink the rest back. His eyes open, and though our foreheads are still pressed together the angle of our heads makes it easy to see the same emotions I feel reflected back at me. Sadness, regret, relief, acceptance. They change again an instant later to something more hopeful.

"You were laughing." Not a question, but a hesitant and hushed almost reverent observation.

I blush a little and smile. "Oh, yeah, a bit. Jasper was telling me about the almost alias fiasco with Emmett, you know. Long Wong, Rhoda and Seymour Bush…"

"Do it again," he interrupts, his tone full of need, his eyes darkening and once again focused on my mouth as though by sheer will he can make me recreate the sound. I shake my head at him, too confused to do anything else.

"Never mind," he murmurs, one of his thumbs caressing my cheek. "It doesn't matter." His mouth comes down over mine then, rough and urgent, shocking me and making the most pleasant butterflies swoop around in my stomach. His taste is so cool and sweet as my mouth opens under his insistence and the touch of his tongue against mine makes my pulse race, heat spiralling all over my skin.

Edward breaks the kiss to turn his head slightly away without letting go of me. His voice is a rough snarl. "Jasper, get out."

He's backing me up now, slow even steps urging me backwards until I feel the edge of the sofa bump the thin skin behind my knees. Only his hand, now on my waist, keeps me from falling down on the cushions.

"Edward, Bella and I weren't done yet. I was right in the middle of telling her a very amusing tale..." There's laughter in Jasper's tone when Edward cuts him off. Without turning, his eyes locked on mine, his voice turns from a snarl to something much softer but no less dangerous sounding.

"You have five seconds, Jasper. I'm about to make love to my wife, so I suggest you leave and leave quickly. Unless you have some sick desire to see my naked ass..."

"Perish the thought," Jasper laughs. "Shall I close the door behind me then?"

Edward's answer is another growl that nearly drowns out both the sound of Jasper's amusement and the sound of the door closing. I don't even think it's all the way closed before Edward has us on the sofa. Whatever small amount of embarrassment I might have been about to feel at his rather shocking declaration vanishes the second his mouth meets mine.

"I need you," he groans against my lips, fingers already deftly undoing buttons and snaps and zippers. I think I hear something tear then his hands are on my bare skin. Somehow mine are on his as well and nothing else matters.

Nothing else at all...

. . . . .

**Edward's POV**

When the sound of Bella crying softly had reached my ears, filtering through the mental wall I erect whenever she's with Jasper, I'd frozen where I stood. I strive always to give her privacy when she's with him, but there is no off switch to my talent, nor is there any off switch to my need and desire to know at all times where she is and how she fares. Still, I always do what I can, focusing on her heartbeat and not her words during those times. Keeping my hands busy and my mind full of other things helps, even if those other things have to be Emmett and Rose's company and minds.

To keep from invading her privacy, I gnashed my teeth together and punctured the tire in my hands with curled in fingers. Stale air released in a hiss, rubber shredding like tissue paper while the metal frame warped into something unrecognizable. Emmett had placed a restraining hand on my shoulder and Rose had looked up in sympathy. Somehow I'd managed to stay in my place.

But the sound of her laughter? That soft, somewhat hesitant, throaty little giggle that I hadn't heard since before the night our world had imploded in around us? That sound I was powerless against, not an ounce of resistance in me. I flew through the house and up to the music room using all my speed, not caring that the wave of air disturbed in my wake rattled artwork on the walls and toppled items from shelves.

I'm across the room in less time than it takes her heart to complete one beat, sliding my fingers into her hair to cradle the fragile warmth of her skull. She's too beautiful with her tear stained cheeks and ivory skin, her soft cupids bow mouth quivering with so many mixed emotions. Her eyes tell the tale of her feelings; feelings echoed in the thoughts I no longer attempt to block from my brother's mind.

_Careful, Edward. She's incredibly fragile right now. Don't upset her._ His warning thoughts are unnecessary. I can see for myself the storm brewing behind her pain filled eyes. The bravery she tries to emit as I ask her why she's been crying, though I already know.

I cannot imagine the strength and selflessness it has taken her to make this decision. To give up her Mother years before she should ever have to. To give up her entire life and walk away from nearly every one she knows and loves, allow them to believe she is dead so that she can protect not only them, but us as well, humbles me to the breadth of my being.

When I ask about the laughter some of the shadows pull away from her eyes. The web-like pressure I'd begun to feel around my mind pulls back as well as she smiles a little. I ask her to do it again and she looks confused. She cannot know what it means to me to have heard her laugh and I instantly regret the demand, kissing her instead.

The taste of her fills me as she responds to the hungry coercion of my lips. I tell myself to be gentle, but my need is too great for me to find the same level of restraint I normally use. Oddly I have no fear that I will hurt her, only concern that I will overwhelm her with the force of my feelings that so desperately need an outlet.

I should regret the way I snarl at Jasper. I should regret the way I lay her down on the couch, and tell her I need her before giving her the chance to choose this for herself. Perhaps if her breathing didn't escalate and her body didn't stir to life beneath mine in the way I've become so addictively familiar with, I might have. At the very least I should regret the way her I ruin her clothing, but as she arches against me, her hot little hands running over the skin of my body as I strip us both bare, nothing else matters.

Nothing at all…


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N Thanks to those who nominated FBR and DFE (and me in the author category) in the Glamspawards. :) Check out their site and be sure to vote for your faves. Just google Glamspawards and be prepared for a giggle. **

**The chapter you are about to read has not been beta'd.**

* * *

Chapter 50

Bearing the Weight Until I Learn to Lean

**Bella's POV**

**. . . . . . **

I died today.

Quietly and without fanfare. The time, officially unknown I suppose, and yet I won't forget watching the clock on the wall count the minutes, the seconds, down to the hour of 6:00 p.m. which is when Charlie Swan will call his former wife Renee and tell her of the loss of their only child. That is the marker I use. The chiming of those six, harsh bells from the antique clock down the hall from our bedroom. As the last one rings out, lingering for a moment in the air as though it knows its own monumental importance, I know it ends the existence of Isabella Marie Cullen nee Swan.

Edward Anthony Cullen officially died with me.

I rise up out of my curled position on the couch and cross the room to the bed.

Edward Masen sits on the edge and watches me with soft, sad eyes gone black with emotions I can't fathom. Intense and rigid he doesn't blink, as though he's afraid to do so would mean I'd vanish and truly be gone from him.

My smile is tentative when I move to stand between his slightly splayed knees, but the hand that tangles briefly in his hair and then slides down to rest on his cheek is as reassuring as I can make it.

"Hello, Mr. Masen," I greet softly, glad to hear my voice stays as steady as my hand. Perhaps later there will be a time to tremble, to mourn the loss of the only identity and life I've ever known, but not now. Not when I know he needs me...

"Hello, Mrs. Masen," he greets back, a mixture of pride and regret tumbling in amongst the sadness in his eyes. As proud as he is to be a Cullen, there is something inherently special about me taking his real name, and though he may regret the necessity he cannot fully hide his pleasure in saying it out loud for the first time. He captures my hand in his cold grasp, almost squeezing too tight as he presses it to his mouth, kissing the skin on my knuckles with a ragged breath and finally allowing his eyes to close. I see a stronger flash of pain just before his lashes sweep it under his lids.

"Bella. I..."

"Shh," I hush him, bringing my other hand up to touch the other side of his face. "Look at me. I'm right here, Edward. You're right here, too. That's the only important thing."

His eyes open at my urging and I replace the tentative smile with something more real, letting the love I feel for him show in my eyes and ground me at the same time.

"I'm right here," I repeat, knowing he needs to here it as many times as I can say it.

"Yes."

"You're right here."

"Yes."

"I'm real. I'm yours. Touch me."

"Yes..." This affirmation is born on a hard exhaled groan as I give him permission to do what he's trying to restrain himself against. Hands curled on his thighs in fists that seem sculptured from raw cement unfurl and reach up, tugging the sash from my robe free and sending it off my shoulders to pool on the floor behind us. I'm naked underneath, by choice, by design. I knew he would need this. That he would need me and I'd wanted nothing between us that might make him hesitate, not even something as inconsequential as clothes.

"Touch me," I murmur again, urging him to put his needs first, wanting to ease him if I can. The pull of our invisible connection reaches out as always, demanding its link in physical connection. I know he feels it too when he groans my name and tumbles me down on the bed, covering my body with his, parting my thighs with his...

Life reaffirms life in the most elemental and powerful way physically possible. And oh yes, we are both very much alive. Even if only my heart truly beats, it doesn't matter. A lost life time ago it learned to beat for both of us, and I will make sure it keeps on beating for as long as I can. For as long as he needs me to...

. . . . . .

Much later in the dark, wrapped in his cool arms and the competing warmth of heat radiating from the fire he's built in the fireplace, Edward speaks to me softly. Telling me of the steps he's taken to make sure that Renee and Phil, and even Charlie will never want for anything in their lives.

Desires banked, the sadness moves back into his eyes as he softly strokes my skin and murmurs to me a dozen inconsequential things. Watching me closely to see if I will finally break under the weight of his confessions.

I don't. Not when he tells me of the wills that will bequeath more money to my parents than they could ever imagine. The bulk of it is hidden in assets that will pay them generously throughout their lives, all managed by discreet accountants and investment firms so that they will never truly know the full amounts of their sudden overwhelming fortune.

I don't break when he tells me of the arranged memorial service that will take place in Forks in lieu of typical funerals. Our bodies after all will never be found, believed to have been claimed by the same waters that stole our lives.

Not when he tells me that we will be alone for a few days while the family returns to Forks to help Charlie perpetuate the charade. Or when he tells me that Alice has seen that Charlie will struggle with the weight of his responsibility when confronted with my Mother's grief, but that he will bear it in the end.

In the silence that follows I think of the people I've left behind. I find myself wondering about Angela and Mike, and the few other friends I'd made and never fully cherished. Mostly I think about how it all seems to have come full circle, and even more than that, how right it feels to be where I am now.

The sadness is there, but for now, my gains are too precious to be minimized by my losses.

I press a kiss to Edward's chest, moving my mouth over his skin to a flat nipple, brushing my lips across it and smiling a little at the half choked sound he makes in the back of his throat. His hands tangle in my hair and tug me up gently to search my eyes with his, trying to see inside.

"Bella..."

Thank you," I tell him, dropping my head again to kiss his mouth. "For taking care of them, of me." I move the kisses lower along his jaw, and then his neck, wanting to once again banish the pain from his eyes. Back across his chest to the other nipple I'd neglected, smiling again at the noise that is the same apparently no matter which one I touch. Down to his perfect abs, the muscles defined and completely rigid beneath my lips as I strive to take care of him for a change, to show him without words that I've made my choice and I have no regrets.

As I move lower, I wonder briefly what noise he'll make this time. And then I smile as I don't have to wonder anymore...

. . . . .

Later still, the fire has died in its grate to nothing more than orange embers and my body feels drained and light and very, _very _alive despite the now common belief to the contrary. Especially with an inexhaustible Edward brushing his lips over my ribcage and grinning as I convulse in giggles.

"Edward, stop," I laugh and then gasp as his kisses move lower and change in intent.

In my mind the strange corridor opens and a door rattles gently in its frame. The movement matches the ripples I feel on my skin as he bows his head to my abdomen and growls the word 'mine' against my skin.

"Oh..."

Edward's door. It's so clear. How I could ever have not understood before baffles me. Unlike the other doors that seem to stay stationary, there place in the corridor fixed, Edward's door is with me always. No matter where my feet are in the corridor, Edward's door is beside me. I know that if I wanted to I could seal the door, lock it up tight and keep him safe inside with me...

"You're turn," he whispers to me, the words like touch on the inside of my thighs.

In the corridor I open the door and see the meadow, our meadow, alive with sunlight and wild flowers and Edward smiling, holds out his hand to me beckoning...

His real presence and voice draws me back. "Stay with me, love. Stay here with me..."

My eyes open and he's above me, cradling me close as lights and pain flash through my head like late-spring thunder storms. His fingers run over my cheek, the touch and his plea anchoring me to the here and now. In my mind I close the door and send the corridor back into the shadows, once again finding the will to defy the compelling pull of it. My fingers tremble when I reach up to touch his dark angels face, his eyes filled with worry, pleading with me not to let that place pull me in. Not yet.

Not until he's ready...

I tug him down to me, arching off the bed so our skin touches everywhere, sliding my legs around his hips so he can't help but be inside me. So deep inside me... "I'm not going anywhere," I promise, sealing the vow with a kiss.

. . . . . .

The house is very quiet with just Edward and me home. We'd spent the morning talking quietly in our bed, him urging me to open up about where I go in my head during those moments I seem so far away. I'd tried to explain a little, but it's so hard, and I hate the shadows it puts on his face and in his eyes. I've already caused him so much worry... I shouldn't omit things, I know, but I can control this. I will control this...

I hear him in the kitchen, humming along to some obscure fifties song on an 'oldies' radio station while he cooks me an omelette. The normality of it hits me hard and makes me want to laugh as I relish the new lightness that is finally banishing the darkness that has hung over him like a cloud. He's...happy again, and it is such a beautiful thing to see some of the weight finally lifting off his shoulders

The sudden remembrance that far away in a place I once lived my family and his are mourning our pretend death, jars me a little. The word surreal has a whole new meaning and understanding for me. And just like that the urge to laugh vanishes and I want to cry.

I stare down at the journal in my lap and blink until the words found there are no longer blurred, letting what I'd written chase away the melancholy I won't allow to taint Edward's current mood. Or mine for that matter, because in truth, melancholy aside, I too am happier than I've been in a very long time.

Blushing, I read over the last line I'd written again, teasing the underside of my chin with the ridiculous poof of fuzz on my pen. The words are choppy, the loops of the letters broken by intermittent blank spaces as the ink runs out, but it hardly matters. I'd captured what I wanted to capture; a sweet intense moment between Edward and me in the hot springs last night. The air had been so cold and the water so hot, that the steam created walls that sealed us in so the only direction you could see was up. Above us a blanket of stars and the flickering lights of the aurora borealis. They'd danced and blended with the tiny, stationary jewels of starlight before coalescing with the explosion of lights in my body and mind.

Maybe it's silly, but it's my journal. My memories. And making love with Edward in the hot springs in Alaska in the middle of the night, wasn't something I ever wanted to forget.

I shake the pen to try and squeak out the last remnants to write two more lines. More than my own feelings I wanted to capture and remember Edward's. The way he'd looked at me, the way he'd arched his back and growled his own pleasure to that light show in the sky. Most of all the way he'd held me in that moment afterward, his unnecessary breathing oddly ragged as he'd groaned in my ear and told me – "You wreck me, Bella."

High praise indeed coming from an invincible vampire.

The pen is being uncooperative, and I feel a little sad as I stare at it and contemplate writing with a plain old Bic pen. Even the most serious and intense memories can't overwhelm me when I'm writing them with a ridiculous pen. The icing on the cake being that a very serious, and at the time nearly despondent vampire, had bought me the absurd thing just because it had made me smile. A tangible, solid presence in my hands that feels like it kind of represents Edward's love and acceptance of all parts of me. From the serious to the silly, the broken to the healed.

"Are you alright?" His sudden appearance in the doorway startles me and he's at my side instantly, running one cool finger over my cheek. "I'm sorry, did I scare you? You were so deep in thought." Looking down at the journal in my lap his eyes make a few quick passes over the words and then his lips quirk crookedly, a smile beginning to bloom even before my slower reactions can close the book.

He laughs lightly at my blush, and then leans down to place a feather light kiss to my mouth. "You know to capture that moment accurately, you really should write _your _experience of the exploding lights_ three_ times." His smug words are delivered on his icy sweet breath, filling my head with clouds and the remembered sensation of just how what he's describing had felt. Still, I roll my eyes and smack him lightly with my pen. Or I'd thought lightly. The casing cracks and the tip snaps off, bouncing off the wrinkles of fabric created by the bent angle of his arm before rolling to the floor.

"Oops." I stare at the broken pen and sigh. It was dead anyway, but that silly lingering feeling of loss hurts. "I really liked that pen," I pout, giving him a little evil eye. A second later my journal is gone and a plain white cardboard box sits on my lap in its place.

"What's this?" I question.

"Open it."

I frown, but gamely wiggle open the flaps at the top and a dozen pens with fuzzy caps of hair spill out. All identical to mine.

"Oh. What...How?"

Edward picks one up and twirls it gently, making the froth of material stand up straighter. "I found the manufacturer online," he admits somewhat sheepishly.

I dive up off my chair and throw myself in his arms. His fast reflexes and strength aid him in catching me easily while I kiss him thoroughly. He smiles against my mouth when I have to draw back for air.

"Finally," he murmurs.

"Finally what?"

"Finally a gift you approve of. I'm tempted to buy the company now, or at least the patent on those ridiculous things."

I laugh. "I doubt that would be a very wise or lucrative investment, Edward."

His expression alters slightly as he looks down at me, and with incredible tenderness he traces the line of my ear and jaw. "I beg to differ, love. Any investment I make that pays dividends as valuable as the treasure of your smile and happiness, is the wisest investment I could ever make.

I can't help but laugh again. "That's very sweet, Mr. Masen. Very cheesy, but very sweet."

He grins and in a move that takes my breath away, scoops me up and tosses me unceremoniously but carefully over his shoulder. He swats my bottom lightly, making me squeal.

"I aim to please, Mrs. Masen. And speaking of cheese, it's time to feed the human and your omelette is ready."

. . . . . .

Staring at the computer screen in the dim light of Carlisle's study isn't doing my headache any favours, but there was no denying my curiosity. After all, how many people can say they had a chance to read their own obituary?

Unlike the other obituaries that had appeared at the same time on the Forks Forum, mine is simple and brief. No lifetime of achievements or long line of surviving family members to draw it out past one small paragraph. In my mind I can imagine the people reading and shaking their heads sadly at the loss of such a young life. Pity marring their expressions as they maybe search the room for their own daughters, trying to reassure themselves with their presence. Worse yet, I imagine Renee reading those few words, knowing that she can't take that comfort.

It's a conflicting batch of emotions I feel reading this. Regret for the pain I'm causing for my own selfish desires. Relief that the past is now truly the past. A dozen others I can't easily name conflict me and frustrate me.

"Not an easy thing to read, darlin. Confused is okay."

When Jasper's voice breaks into my reverie, it isn't a surprise. I'd purposely waited until Edward left to hunt to scratch the unrelenting itch of curiosity. Not because I'd wanted to hide it from him, but simply because this feels private to me. Something I desperately wanted to do on my own. I knew when I logged on that my emotions would alert Jasper. If anything I'm surprised he'd given me as much alone time as he has.

I log off the computer and turn towards him. He's sitting on the small sofa, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands stretched out to the fire he must have built while I was lost in my own thoughts. He smiles softly, eerily beautiful in the firelight the way they all are, and pats the space beside him. I leave the now black monitor to join him, curling my feet beneath me and resting my head against the cushions. His presence is solid and reassuring, the touch of his gift light and not unwelcome as I instantly feel relaxed and content. Perhaps too relaxed and content. The vigil I must always keep now over my shield fails me. The corridor snaps open without warning so that I don't see the fire or Jasper, only that endless length that goes on and on.

_I know this is the way to control my shield, but I don't know how..._

_So many damn doors. I don't even know that many people; do I? Is each door a person, someone I know, or everyone I've ever known? A place? Could I extend my shield over entire area...?_

_Jasper's door is easy to find. In the last few days I've realized that his door, like all the Cullen's, is always at the front. Likewise the doors I believe are Renee's and Phil's and Charlie's. The quickest besides Edward's to access._

_What I don't understand, what frightens me, is that I don't know how the corridor works. If I walk too far down, if I take any one of the turns and twists, will I lose their doors? Can I take them with me the way I take Edward's? Could I join the rooms? Make them one so I don't block them from each other, only from the outside world...  
_

_Will I lose myself? I'm so tempted, so compelled to explore, but the unknown spaces confuse me, terrify me, just as much as they seem to call me. The lure is getting harder and harder to resist and I find myself taking a step forward, like a moth to the flame. _

_It's so compelling...  
_

_There are times when the entire corridor feels solid and immovable, every door anchored, and other times when I swear there is fluidity there, insubstantial mouldable qualities. The desire to seal and lock the doors is overpowering, like instinct, but I know I must not do that. Even the thought tears at something inside of me, pushing at the walls of my mind until I think I see cracks and fissures, as though if I'm not careful I could cleave the two parts of me in half..._

_If I could just understand..._

"Bella! Stop!"

Ice cold hands grip my face tightly, slamming me back to the study and the real world. I'm gasping and shaking and for a minute I'm angry, _furious_ at being pulled back, at being denied...something...

The feeling fades immediately, leaving me even more shaken in the aftermath and also more confused. Alice's face in front of me is a picture of distress. I have a hard time focusing on it though as my head erupts in agony. It bows my entire body and I fall into Alice with a sob. Her arms cradle me and there is a flurry of activity in my periphery before it all goes black.

. . . . . .

"Carlisle, I'm fine," I tell him for the fourth time in as many minutes. I hiss as he shines the penlight in my eyes and then negate my former reassurance by whimpering and nearly throwing up on him. My hand clamps over my mouth as I rock under the onslaught of having my head hammered by imaginary fists. Vampire fists. I swear my skull is going to crack.

"You're not fine, Bella. You passed out, and you're obviously in a great deal of pain."

"I didn't pass out," I argue around my fingers. "Things just got a little...dark for a second."

Cool, soothing hands touch the sides of my head and anchor it to my neck. Rose. I'm surprised I can recognize anyone's touch outside of this pain.

"Can you swallow this, Bella?"

"No." I grit my teeth around the single syllable. My eyes are still shut tight and I have no idea what exactly it is he wants me to swallow, but it doesn't matter. Nothing is going to go down right now. Even air is problematic as the nausea just seems to get worse.

"She's too sick, Carlisle," Rose tells him, and I hear Alice echo the sentiment.

"It'll come up faster than it goes down."

Well, isn't that a lovely thought that almost comes true regardless of the fact I hadn't actually swallowed anything.

I feel Rose's gentle influence trying to soothe me and her door in the corridor rattles and knocks around in its frame. "Rose...don't...don't get in my head. It makes your door vibrate." I'm still talking through clenched teeth but the confused silence tells me they understood, at least the words if not the meaning. Rose lets go and I almost wish she hadn't. My head feels too heavy for my body to bear right now. Another set of hands thankfully replaces hers and I hear Esme whisper to me to shush and to just relax, it's all okay.

A scratching sound is followed by a hiss and the sharp bite of sulphur from a match hits my nose a second before it's replaced by the sweeter smell of marijuana.

Esme's door rattles despite her lack of influence over me, and I whimper and regretfully pull away.

"Everyone. Give me a minute alone with Bella, please." Carlisle's order is soft spoken and quickly obeyed if the sudden empty feel of the space around me is any indication. "There now, easy breaths, Bella, just relax." He places the marijuana cigarette in my hand but my fingers are shaking too much to hang on to it.

"Alright, sweetheart. Let's try it this way then, shall we? Breathe in." I manage to time my inhale to his exhale and the sweetness of his breath mingles with the drug somehow enhancing it. I relax with each puff, the pain withdrawing back to the corners of my head, no longer a snarling beast. My stomach settles by inches until I can open my eyes again. Carlisle extinguishes the joint when he sees I've had enough and then surprises me by picking me up, heading for the doorway.

"No tests," I mutter petulantly from the cloud.

"Just a few," Carlisle answers. "I'll give you something to help you sleep through..."

Instantly I push against him, shaking off the fog. "No, Carlisle, no more. Please, put me down, I'm okay."

"Bella..."

I press my head against his cool chest and clench his shirt in my fist when his steps stop just shy of the door. "Please, Carlisle. No more... It's enough already. I'm so tired, please..."

I feel more than hear him sigh and then I'm placed gently on the couch where this whole episode began.

"Alright, Bella. No tests."

I open my eyes to look at him, wanting to know if we're on the same page. I don't mean just now, I mean no more, period. His expression seems to convey he understands, and he smiles slightly and nods.

"No more tests," he promises quietly. I study him for a moment, making sure he means it. He smoothes my hair. "Can you swallow something now? It's liquid, not a pill. It won't make you sleep; it's just something to ease the headache further."

I shake my head, my stomach still too unsettled and more than that, sick of the endless drugs. He doesn't argue, merely nods and drags a blanket over me gently.

"Rest then. It's the next best thing."

I close my eyes and listen to him move around the room shutting off lights. I hear him settle into his chair and then there is nothing but the sound of his habitual breathing. I let it soothe me, exhaustion a weight pressing down on my aching joints, though not the kind that brings sleep. Eventually I hear him turning the pages of a book. I think about asking him to read to me then disregard the thought. The silence is soothing in its own right.

A log in the fireplace shifts and thumps softly against the others, the resultant shower of sparks a flickering orange light behind my eyelids. I drift, ignoring the call of the corridor and the faded but lingering stab of the headache. I think I drift, though it isn't really sleeping. Eventually the needs of my body can't be ignored. I'm desperately thirsty so I sit up slowly, mindful of my throbbing head and the hazy effect of the weed.

Carlisle is at my side in an instant, the soft thump of the heavy cover on the large textbook he was reading sounding out behind him. I blink, a little disconcerted as he reaches out to steady me. It's only then I notice the furrows in his unlined forehead, like little chiselled waves in the smooth white surface. He's more than a little worried about me.

"I'm all right, Carlisle," I reassure him, though if his expression tells a tale, he doesn't really believe me. "I'm just thirsty."

"What would you like? I'll get it for you."

"Actually, I'd like to move around a little if that's okay? I'm stiff and tired of lying here." I don't wait for permission and start for the kitchen. As I move I do actually start to feel better. The headache recedes further and my stomach settles until I'm actually looking forward to something to drink. Carlisle stays beside me, his hand a welcome brace on the small of my back.

In the kitchen he makes me sit down and oddly at home he moves around easily, pouring me a glass of juice and even putting the kettle on to brew tea. He sits across from me as the kettle boils and regards me gently as I take tentative sips from my glass.

"Tell me what happened, Bella."

I shrug and then sigh. He's put a small plate with plain saltine crackers in front of me as well and I pick one up, more to have something to do with my hands than out of any desire to eat them.

"It's hard to explain," I tell him.

"Try, please."

The cracker sits like a lump on my tongue forcing me to wash it down with more juice. The kettle whistles, giving me another second to organize my thoughts. He's just removing the strainer with the tea leaves in it when I finally begin.

"There is a corridor in my head." I watch him to see how he'll react, but he merely nods and places the cup in front of me, resuming his seat and waiting for me to continue. "A long unending corridor with doors. A lot of doors. Sometimes it's straight, other times it seems to have...corners, branches that lead...who knows where." The words leave me in a rush as I try to spit it all out quickly, hating that I can't articulate clearly what I see and feel. "The doors are..." I look at him again; hating that what I'm going to say next might make him think something in my head is seriously broken. His expression gives nothing away. "They're...all...I mean each door is a person. Someone I know. You, Rose, Emmett, Esme, Charlie. Everyone has their own door." I shut up then, feeling almost embarrassed despite the fact he only looks thoughtful now. His eyes are clear and non-judgemental. If anything he looks intrigued.

"Did you know Jasper often sees emotions as colours, and not just a sensation he feels?" He asks, surprising me with the topic change.

"Uh, no, he's never said."

He nods and leans back in his chair, looking more thoughtful. "I suppose the closest likeness is what is commonly known as an aura. Though Jasper doubts the aura is anything the person themselves radiate, but merely what his mind uses to visualize the particular feelings."

"Oh."

"I'm assuming the corridor is related to your shielding ability. Would you agree?"

I feel some of the tension leak out of my shoulders and back as it seems like he doesn't think I'm crazy. "Yes," I tell him quickly, leaning forward. "It is. I mean, I know it is. I just don't know how to work it or control it. It's so confusing."

"Bella, I'm not sure this is something you should be trying to understand at this point. There is time enough for that later. If I'm correct," he adds, softening his tone, "and I'm sure I am given your recent experiences, the more you explore this ability, the more your health will pay a price."

He's not telling me anything I don't know, and yet the comment still frustrates me. I want to understand, sooner rather than later. Not being able to do so frustrates me and makes me feel helpless. More than that, lately the call of it is harder and harder to resist and I'm not entirely sure I won't get lost inside of that corridor as it sucks me in.

He sees something in my eyes that reflects my fear and leans forward, reaching out and taking my hand, squeezing it gently.

"Is there more you're not telling me?"

Taking a deep breath I think, 'in for a penny in for a pound'. If I've found a way to tell him this much, maybe he'll understand the rest as well. "I'm afraid of it. Kind of," I amend quickly when his look turns from curious to concerned. "It freaks me out, but it calls me as well. At first I just saw it in dreams. I think I did anyway; it's hard to remember now. But then I started seeing it more. Now I see it every day and I... I want to stay there. I want to figure it out, even though I feel sick after, it's just so...compelling."

He's quiet for a long minute and I wish for a second that I was Edward, capable of seeing inside his mind to know what he thinks. "Do you think I'm crazy?" I ask finally, unable to bear his silence.

He blinks and then smiles, a small laugh making him more handsome than ever. "Sweetheart. You are as far from crazy as it gets. If anything, you are a wonder."

I gape a little at that and he chuckles again. "A wonder?" I laugh a little in shock and then shake my head at him. "A weirdo you mean, or at the very least a pain in the..."

"Stop," he admonishes gently, taking the hand he holds in both of his now, engulfing it in the cold solid grasp of all his fingers. "Bella, from the moment I first met you, I understood that you were a unique mind. I saw in you so many possibilities, and I will admit, at first, the one I saw most prevalently was the possibility you could save my son. You've done that, and so much more. You are a treasure, not just to him, but me as well. If I had been blessed in real life to have a daughter, I could not have asked for a more precious trio than you, Rose and Alice. And if I may be so bold, I think, having had the honour of knowing you as I have, as a person in all aspects of the human definition, that I have a bond with you that I did not get to have with Rose and Alice. You are all truly daughters of my heart, but in you I've been given a great gift. Had my own transformation never happened, I believe wholeheartedly that Esme and I would have had a daughter, very much like you. That was stolen from me, Bella, but you've given a small piece of that back to us. If you can fathom at all how much you mean to us..."

Tears burn hot and heavy in my eyes as I squeeze his hand back as hard as I can when he shakes his head. If he could, I know there would be tears in his as well. I never thought about it, but I can see how what he says might be true. Alice came to the family already changed. In order to save her life, Carlisle was forced to change Rose before he could know her as a human. In all my awkward clumsy fragile ways, I have been more a real child to them then they could be in their invincibility and immortality.

"You are unique in so many ways," he continues after a moment. "This gift, this power and the amazing way it's manifested long before its time, is yet another piece of proof I do not need to know that you are, for whatever reason, meant for this life. But it is a difficult burden you bear and an unfortunate cruel experience that has brought you the awareness of your shield that you have now. You were not meant to have it at this time, but have it you do. But until you become a vampire, it is a threat, Bella. A very dangerous one. Not a gift. Not something you should try to understand, or control. You must resist its pull while you are still human."

"I'm trying," I tell him.

He nods and releases my hands, rising to take my untouched tea to the sink to dump the rapidly cooling liquid before refilling it from the still steaming kettle. When he places it in front of me again and resumes his seat, his expression has changed from concerned to analytical and curious.

"I take it you have not discussed this with Edward?"

"A little. It's hard. It's not as if I understand it or grasp it enough to explain it, as I'm sure you noticed," I add, blushing a little. "Plus, he worries; you know how he gets..." My hands flutter uselessly before I wrap them around the steaming mug, absorbing the heat.

"Yes." Carlisle smiles to let me know he understands. "You are his life, Bella. His worry is understandable."

I nod. "He's my life, too, Carlisle." I beseech him slightly with my eyes. I don't want a lecture right now. "The last few weeks have been...amazing." I blush some more, wishing my face wasn't such an open book. The amazing doesn't just come from sex, but I'd be lying if I was asked and I said it wasn't a big part of it. I shift a little in my seat and take a tentative sip of my tea. I usually make it myself because as much as they try, Esme and Edward don't always get it right. Carlisle however, has it perfect.

"There is a new lightness around you and Edward both," Carlisle agrees, thankfully ignoring my blush and its meaning. "It's been a joy to see."

"Then you can understand maybe, why I don't want to talk about all of _this_," I gesture to my head, "with him right now."

"I do. I only wish you trusted me enough to come to me though."

My eyes widen at the slight tinge of hurt I hear in his tone. I try to explain, but he holds up his hand to stop me.

"It's alright, Bella. I understand." He winks. "But for future reference, a good many years spent in Edward's company has taught me a trick or two in keeping him from knowing all of my thoughts. It can be difficult, but I can keep a secret." The small spark of amusement fades quickly from his eyes. "As your physician it's important I know all your symptoms, especially right now."

"You're right. I'm sorry," I apologize. My cheeks get a little hotter with the slight chastisement.

"I'm more than just your physician," he adds, softening his tone to cushion the rebuke. "Try to remember that as well. I can be an advisor, someone you can come to for guidance, but more than that Bella, I'd like to be a confidante of sorts, someone you can talk with about anything, a friend. One I hope you know you can trust. Always."

"Of course, Carlisle." I smile and hope he can hear that I already think of him as such in my tone.

"Good. Because it is important if you're choosing to remain human for now, that you mustn't shut me out. Again, both as your doctor and as a friend. Any symptom, no matter how inconsequential you feel it may be, is important. As are any emotions you may be feeling."

I nod, already feeling lighter for having told him what I have.

"Bella, right now it is imperative that you put yourself first."

I blink, a little thrown by the demand.

He smiles with an understanding tilt to his head. "Not an easy thing for you, is it? Putting yourself first. I understand that. The way you care for the needs and wants of others above yourself to such a degree as you do, is another thing that makes you unique and wonderful."

I shrug, uncomfortable with the overly flattering personality assessment. "I don't think of it that way. It's just...who I am. It's the way it's supposed to be."

"To a degree, yes. Until it compromises your own health and wellbeing," he warns, his eyes sharp and knowing on mine.

"I thought I could control it. I'm not intentionally keeping secrets, Carlisle, and I wouldn't intentionally jeopardize my life. I just didn't want Edward to worry." I purposely keep a defensive tone from entering my voice, wanting him to hear not an argument, but the truth. It might lose something in the translation followed as it is by a slightly impolite jaw-cracking yawn.

Carlisle smiles and gets up, holding out his hand to help me do the same. "I'm glad to hear it, Bella, and I thank you for confiding in me today. I will endeavour to keep our conversation between us, but I also encourage you to tell Edward what you've told me today. Knowing my son as I do, I would ascertain he is already aware of much of it. You'll worry him more by keeping secrets than you will by disclosure." Again he smiles gently to temper the rebuke. "He loves you, Bella. Don't deny him the chance to be there for you in all ways. His ability to bear any burden is limitless when it comes to you. You are his strength, let him be yours."

"I will," I tell him reaching out to impulsively hug him, truly grateful for his advice and understanding. He hugs me back, his cool arms, solid and strong, feel protective and caring as he places a cold kiss on top of my head much the way Charlie would have.

As though thoughts of my father bring him to Carlisle's mind as well, his hug tightens minutely. "Before we left Forks last week, I promised your father I would take care of you as if you were my own, and that I would let nothing happen to you. It was a promise I made willingly and easily for you are mine now in my heart. Don't make me break that promise, Bella."

He lets me go without waiting for a reply, but keeps his arm around me as he walks with me towards the door.

"Now, you need to rest. I won't push you on tests, but you must continue to take your medications. I'm going to add a stronger sedative tonight and tomorrow I want to start you an a new drug that could help keep the corridor at bay for the time being, alright?"

"Yes, okay."

"Good. Now,I'm sure Edward will be back soon. In the meantime, I know I asked that you put yourself first, but I do have one small favour to ask?"

"Anything," I tell him without hesitation.

"Esme is pacing the halls as we speak," he whispers, a bit playfully as I expect she can hear him regardless of how quiet he tries to say the words. The slight twinkle in his eye backs that up. "Maybe you could let her..."

"Carlisle Cullen!" Esme appears in the doorway, her hands on her hips and a dagger-like scowl on her beautiful face. "Don't you dare make her feel like she needs to do anything she doesn't want to do." The scowl falls away when she turns to me, turning apologetic and soft.

"I'm sorry, dear. I was just worried and wanted to make sure you were all right. Don't mind me." She waves her hands dismissively, but I'm already crossing the room to hug her. She's cold and hard but it's really no different than hugging Renee. Comforting, like coming home. I feel an ache at the loss of Renee, sharp and tight in my chest and as tears prick my eyes, I realize Esme is exactly what I need right now. My arms tighten around her as I release my breath in a shuddery sigh, suddenly not just tired but bone deep exhausted.

"Oh, my sweet girl," Esme murmurs softly, her hands running over my hair and back in that peculiar soothing caress that only mothers seem to know that instantly calms and makes you feel safe and loved. "Come on; let's get you into a warm bath. And after maybe a light dinner, or a cup of cocoa at least? Something sweet and hot?"

"That sounds great actually," I tell her truthfully. Her arms continue to hold me as she moves us fluidly down the hall to the bedroom, her impossible strength making me feel more like I'm floating than walking.

Yes, Esme is exactly what I need right now.

* * *

**A/N This was a slower paced chapter, I hope it didn't disappoint. ****Consider it a little breathing room before the action picks up again in the next chapter. Also, ****I wanted to incorporate the dialogue between Carlisle and Bella that is similar to one of the lost outtakes (chapter 31) so if it seems familiar to those of you who had a chance to read that outtake, that's why.  
**

**Lastly, some of you expressed confusion over the corridor in Bella's mind. Hopefully the fact that it represents her shield and how she can use/control it, is now understandable. The corridor has appeared throughout the story, mostly in her dreams, but in a story this long details get forgotten and links get missed. Feel free to ask questions if you're still not sure of anything. That kind of feedback is invaluable!**

**Next update, Fri. Oct. 29.  
**


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N Almost everyone seems to be on track with everything, but a couple people expressed some confusion over the corridor that Bella is seeing in her mind. Let me see if I can clarify that a bit in case anyone else is struggling. The corridor and its doors represent Bella's shield and how she can access her power. Each door (and room beyond) represents a person. By either locking, sealing or simply closing that door it allows Bella to shield that person, either mentally or physically, or both. The individual doors allow her to shield selectively, person by person. At this point in time she only knows how to do that, and even that is mostly instinctual and reflexive. She has very little control over it at this point. It's mostly controlling her. In the last chapter however, she does note that there is a certain malleable feel to the walls etc. And she wonders if she can shield entire places, not just people. She also wonders if she can join rooms, make them all one. Hint hint. In other words, this is all a work in progress and again, Bella's human mind is not equipped right now to deal with this gift, but there are abundant possibilities for what she may be able to do in the future after her change.**

**Please try to keep in mind that at present, Bella's character is confused about the corridor and how this all works, so a certain amount of confusion on the reader's part is unfortunately inevitable when writing anything in the limited first person pov style.**

**Hope that helps. Always feel free to ask questions. I'll do my best to answer. **

**Chapter is unbeta'd. Usual apologies for errors apply.**

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Chapter 51

Coming Back Around

**Bella's POV**

Esme tucks the electric blanket more firmly around my feet. She's spent the last hour mothering me thoroughly and even if I hadn't enjoyed every second of her brand of pampering, I wouldn't have been able to resist it for the pure joy it seems to put on her face.

I sip the hot chocolate she's made me tentatively. Both because my stomach is still slightly unsettled and because as wonderful as she is, Esme isn't always the best at preparing human beverages. For some reason she seems to be better with food.

The first sip confirms she's made it a little watery, but all things considered that's probably for the best.

"It's wonderful, thank you," I tell her at her inquiring look, justifying the little white lie when she smiles happily.

She settles into the sofa at my feet, her hand resting lightly on my ankle over the blanket, rubbing gently as though to help the electricity induced warmth spread faster and reach deeper. I feel relaxed and drowsy, only the lingering headache keeping me from falling asleep. She's drawn back the covers on the bed, but I want to wait for Edward to come home if I can. I'm aching to be in his arms...

"I spoke with Renee at the memorial." She regards me carefully, searching my eyes to see if I'm up for this discussion. The little but sharp stab of pain I feel in my heart is bearable though as I reach up and run my fingers over my infinity necklace. The smooth, cool feel of it grounds me and reminds me that my sacrifices have gains. Renee being safe from the repercussions of my choices is the most important one of all.

"Did you?" My voice catches a little, and she squeezes my ankle gently.

"Your mother is a very strong woman, Bella. She's hurting, but she was filled with joy remembering you that day. She called you her greatest gift."

I'm quiet for a long minute, contemplating that. There were times in my life I felt burdened with responsibility when it came to Renee, and times where I cherished every one of her silly eccentricities. The loss of her now leaves me feeling hollow with that ever present weight of guilt.

"Do you think...?" I hesitate, wondering if it's fair to ask what's in my mind. It seems selfish, the choices I've made, so perhaps I don't have any right to look for comfort.

"Do I think what, sweetheart? You know you can ask me anything, Bella."

"I was just wondering if you think she'll be okay?"

Esme is quiet for a moment, staring not at me but at the fire in the fireplace. A small smile tugs at her mouth. "Alice hasn't told you then, what she's seen?"

I shake my head. "I didn't ask her. I guess I was afraid of what she might tell me. I had to make the decision... I couldn't let that sway me...or I..." I shrug my shoulders, unsure how to explain, but Esme just nods.

"I understand." She turns her gaze back to me, that same small smile still there. It tells me that whatever Alice had seen can't be bad.

"Would you like to know, now?"

It's my turn to stare at the fire. I ask myself if it matters in the end. I've made my choice, and I know I have to let go. Still, I can't not be curious. Especially with that smile that seems to speak volumes of something wonderful. I close my eyes and nod, resting my head against the pillow Esme had placed behind my back.

It's Alice's voice that speaks to me though, and I open my eyes a little startled as she takes my hand, holding it tightly. She's sitting on her knees beside me, her eyes sparkling with happiness and excitement.

"In one year's time, you'll have a brother, Bella. His name will be Isaac Anthony, named, in a fashion, after you and Edward."

I stare at her blankly, trying to comprehend while a thousand thoughts fight in furious competition in my head. At first it seems impossible, but slowly my mind catches up, and I can see the possibility through Alice's gleaming, golden eyes. Renee is only 40, not too old in this day and age to have a child. And Phil, so much younger than she is. It never occurred to me before, but why wouldn't he want a child of his own? He's a great guy; he'll make a great father.

I start to cry. Not the silent tears of misery and pain, or the sobs of panic and fear that have marked my crying jags over the last few months, but actual healing tears, punctuated by sniffles and laughter joined in by Esme and Alice. I hug Alice hard and pull at her to get her to join us on the couch.

"He's going to be strong and healthy and beautiful, Bella." She tells me, her voice gone quiet as she looks inward at things only she can see. "He's going to be a lot like you in some ways, but he won't be a klutz," she laughs and so do I, Esme wiping away my tears and stroking my hair.

"He'll love baseball like Phil, but he'll have Renee's quirky sense of humour and he'll find joy in her, Bella. Between him and Phil, Renee will be loved and looked after, and yes, she will be okay. I promise. My vision never changes. He's set in stone, Bella, just like my vision of you and what you'd be to Edward, to us. He's as clear to me as if he was already here."

We sit then, just the three of us, quietly thinking about losses and gains. I see the shadow of Esme's loss on her face, but it's tempered with the joy I know her new family, and most of all Carlisle, has given her. And Alice, thrilled to be the bearer of good news for once, looking smug and beautiful.

I feel the tug of the bittersweet news on my emotions. Happiness and peace that Renee will be okay, and sadness at the fact I'll have a brother I'll never get to know. But like Esme's sadness it's tempered in the family I can feel surrounding me now, and in the knowledge that even though he can never know me, I can watch out for him in my own way.

"Want to know another secret?" Alice whispers in my ear, her cold fingers brushing away the last tear on my cheek as she curls against me like a kitten, her head on my shoulder, a smile in her voice. At my nod and laugh she continues, still speaking quietly.

"Right now, as we speak, Charlie is getting ready to ask Karen, one of the secretaries at the station, out on a date. She's going to say yes. He won't know whether to wear a tie or not, but he'll eventually decide to wear one. He's going to take her to the Lodge, but it won't be a great first date." She laughs a little, linking her icy little fingers through mine.

"He's going to close a car door on her skirt, and then later he'll spill wine on her, but it won't matter. He'll think it does. He's going to think he blew it, but when he takes her home and walks her to her door, she's going to use the stupid tie he wore to pull him in close and plant one on him." She lifts her head and winks at my stunned expression. "I won't tell you what happens after she uses the tie to pull him in the house with her..."

"Oh, God. Alice, please don't," I wince even as I laugh, stunned that the quiet, pretty, petite blonde at the station is obviously going to be someone significant in Charlie's life.

"She's perfect for him, Bella. She even likes fishing, which I don't understand, but Charlie's going to have to build her a new closet for all her shoes when she moves in with him, which I do understand." She grins and then puts her head back on my shoulder. "I wonder if he'll let me design it..."

My head reels, but in a good way. Nothing is perfect. I'm sad that I will miss these changes, and I feel a little worried about how my relationship with Charlie might get even more challenging if he has to hide me from a live-in girlfriend. But all of that is in the distant future. I can't know at this time what will happen, and I don't ask anymore of Alice either, though she may have answers. Some things just need to play out on their own.

"Life goes on, Bella," Esme tells me gently, as though she can read my mind. "It can be hard for us to stand on the outside looking in, but it can also be beautiful. Never forget that, my sweet daughter."

Outside, the wind picks up and the first of a few fat snowflakes stick to the glass, their feathery texture tinged by the firelight so that they look more gold than white.

I rest my head on the top of Alice's short, spiky hair, smiling at Esme as she strokes my hand. I close my eyes and rest, letting the comfort of these two amazing women lull me into near sleep, though I don't let it take me fully.

I wait for Edward.

**Edward's POV**

The night is clear and cold. The smell of imminent snow is strong in the air. Heavy, like a palpable weight on my skin and in my lungs, promising to be more than the few sporadic and scattered flakes we've gotten thus far. I'm eager to get back, wanting to share the experience of this first snowfall with Bella.

Emmett however, is taking forever to drain his last kill. He finally stands, wiping his mouth with a grin as though he's sensed my impatience.

"Damn," he says with a laugh. "I needed that. Rose drained me dry last ni..."

"Emmett, please," I growl, pinching the bridge of my nose as his proclamation comes with an entire host of unwanted visuals. He's unapologetic as usual, and the visuals continue with renewed vigour so that I hiss and walk away at a brisk pace.

"Oh, come on!" He follows, but at least he stops the x rated video montage. "There are tons of tips and tricks in here," he argues, motioning to his forehead. "You should take advantage. I mean I know you've picked up lots from me over the years but I'm a perpetual student of love, always learning and more than happy to play tutor."

I snort and then glare at him while quipping sarcastically. "Thanks, I'll take it under advisement."

"Always here for you, my brother," he replies, unfazed by my tone. "Not that I think you aren't competent. I do have ears and from what I've heard, you're doing pretty darn..."

"Emmett, if you want to keep the ears you just referred to, I suggest you shut your mouth before you find yourself picking them out of your teeth!" My snarling threat is met with more laughter, which at least this time he attempts to choke off when I glare.

We walk in silence for a few minutes while his thoughts scatter. He tries to form a less annoying way to compliment me on the restraint that has allowed me to successfully engage in satisfactory sex without breaking my fragile, human wife.

"I get it Emmett," I tell him when his last thought only comes out more insulting and condescending than his last, letting him off the hook.

"Good," he says with a grin. "So, it's easier now, the bloodlust I mean?"

"It's not even an issue any longer."

"Not at all?"

Something in his tone and the sudden illusive quality of his thoughts alerts me to the hidden meaning in his queries. "What are you asking me, exactly?"

He shrugs his large shoulders and stops walking, turning towards me so that I'm forced to stop as well.

"I know her blood still technically calls to you. And look, all kidding aside, I can't help what I hear, or see for that matter. It's pretty obvious, all the broken furniture aside," he winks, "that you've overcome it, and found the crazy ass amount of restraint as well to make it good for Bella."

I'm not so ethical that I don't feel pride at what he's noticed. Being able to please my wife so successfully is a joy. One I'm not in the least ashamed of. I chuckle a little and shake my head, but follow it with a warning look that hopefully lets him know he's walking a fine line.

He holds his hands up in a sign of submission. "There is something I wanted to talk to you about," he says. "I'm not just trying to invade your privacy, though I admit it's kind of nice to be on your side of the fence for once."

I nod in assent to that point, unable to fault it. His many different thoughts finally coalesce into one, and I catch the tenor of them a split second before they are vocalized.

"I'm just wondering if you're still worried about your self control, at all?"

"You're referring to when it comes time to change her," I note, his thoughts clear enough now I don't need to phrase it as a question.

He nods anyway.

"I will always be worried about my self control" I admit honestly. "To allow myself to become complacent would be exceedingly foolish."

"But?"

"No buts. I'm worried and hopeful at the same time."

"Hopeful?"

"Yes. Hopeful. My worries and fears about making love with her were ungrounded and unnecessary. There is no part of me that does not abhor the very idea of hurting her, and that includes my vampire nature. I am hopeful this will be the same and my instincts will be overruled."

He bobs his head in understanding.

"That being said," I continue carefully, "I have no intentions of taking any chances. Carlisle will be at hand to stop me should I falter. If he needs to rip my head from my shoulders to do it, so be it." I grin with forced effort in an attempt to lighten the moment. "Feel free to play kickball with it." The grin fades and becomes a grimace of agony at the thought that I could fail. Despite being hopeful, there is no denying my worry. "It'll be the very least I deserve," I finish darkly.

He snorts, though the idea amuses him greatly. "Look, if it means anything, I'm not asking because I'm worried about it. I personally think you have this in the bag, without a shadow of a doubt."

His tone takes a sudden almost menacing tone and his eyes darken in clear warning. "If I thought you didn't, I'd rip your arms and legs off and bury them a thousand feet underground. It'd take you hours to chew your way down to get them back, and an hour more to roll yourself and your limbs back for Carlisle to reattach. By then, he would have the job done. Bella would already be changing and your self control, or lack thereof, would be a moot point. Bet on it."

I don't need to 'bet on it'. His expression and demeanour are fierce, and they are more than backed up by his protective thoughts.

I hold my hand out. "I'll take that as a promise."

He grabs the offered hand and shakes it with more force than needed, grinning.

"That it is."

"Good."

We begin to walk again, and after a moment I ask him why he's brought all this up. "Surely you already knew my answer," I conclude.

"That's just it. I didn't know your answer." He looks at me like he's waiting for a response but I merely look back, waiting for his mouth to catch up with his mind. He sighs loudly. "I wondered, like you haven't already figured out, why the hold up. Why haven't you changed her yet?"

"You know what Alice said, what she saw. I'm waiting for her to be ready. It has to be Bella's choice, Emmett."

"Well sure," he answers with a decidedly 'duh' tone of voice. "But until she knows _you_ are ready, I doubt she's going to make the choice."

Even as he speaks, I'm acknowledging and fully facing the truth of his words. For days now my inner voice has been niggling at me, telling me exactly this. I've been trying to ignore it, wanting to allow her to come to the decision on her own without undue influence. It had occurred to me that she might be concerned over me and my state of mind. I simply had no idea how to alleviate any fears she might have in that regard without having them compel her to make a choice she may be unready to make.

But now, confronted with Emmett's gentle chastisement, I see another truth as well. One far less altruistic.

The last few weeks have been a precious gift. Seeing Bella smile and hearing her laugh, her eyes alight with real amusement, is something I'd honestly feared I might never see again. She has been more herself, even with the burden of fake death upon her shoulders, than she has been in months. A part of me has been loath to end that and toss her into a fiery, pain filled transformation. And subsequently, into a newborns existence of overwhelming thirst and confusing adaptation.

Even more shameful is my selfish desire to spend every last second basking in the returned light of her. It has been so long since I felt the radiance of her, the joy of her. To hold her while she sleeps and be welcomed into the locked sanctuary of her mind, where finally nightmares do not have sole dominion. To feel her precious, fragile skin against my body as I tenderly love her to her release and mine, without fear of Jacob Black's miserable memory lurking in the shadows of her mind. These are gifts I have not wanted to give up.

Perhaps I cannot be faulted for that. When it comes to Bella and my emotions and needs, the term 'only human' is fitting, semantics aside. And a part of me knows that she has needed this as well.

The sheltering bubble of my happiness and justifications however, has not been impervious to the pinpricks of reality. There is only so much time left, and in the last few days alone I've noticed a change in her. Small notices that all point to this small lull being just that. A lull.

There is no cure for a disease we cannot name.

As Emmett and I begin to walk again, my thoughts cement. The reprieve has been too treasured a thing to regret. I will not debase its value by bemoaning the healing power it has had on me. If she has indeed been holding off her change for me, I will thank her for the incredible gift while I cherish every memory we've made.

"You're right," I tell him. The silence between us while I've grappled with my thoughts has only been seconds. The decision made in that paltry time period easing some burden I'd barely been aware of.

"Of course I am," he laughs, bumping my shoulder. "Wait. What am I right about?"

I roll my eyes, not entirely sure he's serious or if he's just trying to lighten the mood. "I need to ease Bella's mind and ensure she's not waiting on me."

"She's waiting on you, Edward." He says. "_I_ can assure you on that point. Jasper's felt it, Rose has felt it. And even if they hadn't, that shit is just classic Bella."

Something in my expression must show the sick lurch of guilt I feel for allowing her to go through these last few weeks believing she needed to hold out for me, because Emmett instantly clamps a large hand to my shoulder, easily fitting his stride to mine.

"Hey, man. Don't beat yourself up. I didn't bring this up to make you feel bad. I think both of you have needed this time. It's been...what's the word? Cathartic? Yeah, cathartic. You guys needed this, and I think Bella's smart as hell to recognize it. You've been walking the edge, Edward. I don't care how indestructible we might be, what happened to Bella, what you've been through, it takes a hell of a toll..."

His voice trails off as his expression turns reflective with his own memories of the time he spent trying to help Rose heal. It's only fleeting though, and quickly followed by a more common expression. Mischief. His eyes spark with it, mouth curving in amusement as he continues.

"Besides, when I think of you trying to change her even as early as two, three months ago? Well, let's just say I think it could've been disastrous, all that stress and bottled up sexual tension..."

I jerk my shoulder away as Emmett starts to laugh, rolling my eyes at him but fighting the urge to smile. It would only encourage him.

"Aw, come on, you know I'm just having fun. Things have been way too serious lately. I don't mean any harm." He sounds a little repentant and his thoughts show his uncertainty that the humour might be too soon and out of place.

I smile a little at that. "I appreciate you bringing this up with me, Emmett."

"Really?" He sounds all together too surprised.

"Yes, really. Sometimes, I may know the truth of things here," I tap my chest above my quiet heart, then raise my fingers to my temple, repeating the action, "but not always here."

"Well that was easy." He scowls. "You were already heading for this decision yourself, weren't you?" He doesn't wait for my answer, cursing loudly and foully at my vague shrug.

It's my turn to laugh at him. "Let me guess. You and Jasper had a bet?" At his chagrined look and following thoughts of having to wear one of Rose's more risqué lingerie sets, I laugh harder. "Really Emmett, when are you going to learn? Never bet against an empathic on matters of emotion."

"Well, shit. It's not like..."

Time stops, or seems to.

In unison we freeze as an all too familiar scent gets caught on the changing breeze, stirred up by the growing tempest of an impending snowfall.

The growl that rips from my throat is compulsion and instinct.

"Wolf," I snarl as the stench invades my nose, the sound of my growl echoed by Emmett's matching one. Instinctively I turn towards the scent, rage blocking reason so that I can't even focus on attuning to thoughts. Not that it matters. They're too far from me, and I could fucking care less who it is.

They're dead either way.

I start to run only to be blocked by Emmett. "No," he barks, sending me back a full step, his face a mirror reflection of my rage. "Go home, protect your mate. There could be more of them. I've got this one. Go!"

He needs to say no more, I'm already gone, racing towards the house at the full extent of my speed, cursing the complacence that allowed me to be caught unaware and left Bella vulnerable.

If anything happens to her, anything at all…

**Bella's POV**

I don't know what's happening, but something is very, very wrong. One minute I'm drifting and relaxed, and the next Alice and Esme are off the couch and standing in ways that seem almost...protective.

Alice's hands are slightly outstretched, her face full of frustrated concentration. She seems like she's ready to pick me up and bolt.

Esme's stance is guarded, her eyes on the door, her head cocked to the side like she's listening to orders I can't hear. She turns her head slightly towards Alice and I see her lips move like they're trembling. Alice shakes her head, the sound out of her mouth reminiscent of a coiled snake hissing in warning.

"Nothing," she says out loud. It's gone, blank." She looks at me and I shake my head, thinking she must be talking about her vision.

"It's not me. I mean, I don't think it is...I'm not, trying to block... What's wrong?"

"It's okay, Bella," she responds. "Everything is fine." She smiles but it's all fake, both the expression and the oddly flat tone of her voice.

I try to get up and almost trip over the blanket around my feet. She reaches out to steady me and I see her eyes go to the window, moving me so subtly and quickly I barely even notice until she's between me and it. Esme between me and the door.

My heart begins to hammer, adrenaline rushing through me. Alice rubs my shoulder. "Breathe, Bella. Edward's here, he's coming right now. Everything is okay."

She's lying. Big time. Her jaw is nearly clenched as she tries to see with her mind, and I instantly know what's wrong. Only one other thing can block her visions.

The wolves.

My hands go wet with sweat and panic tries to ram its way up my throat. I fight it down, trying to see all sides clearly. Esme and Alice are guarded, uncertain, but if there is real danger, they aren't sure of it yet or they'd be acting.

And then Edward is coming into the room, moving to quick but not racing. I see his lips tremble as well and Esme suddenly moves. His lips tremble again and her actions slow to a more normal pace as she leaves the room, as though he'd told her to act more normal.

Carlisle comes through the door the second she's gone just as Edward draws me away from Alice. His hands are freezing from being outside, and though the cold bites through the thin cotton top I'm wearing I don't flinch, too busy studying his guarded face to care about the sting of cold.

"What's wrong?" I demand, swallowing past the fear of the unknown that's making my heart race like a trip-hammer.

"Nothing's wrong, love." His answer is too quick and his smile doesn't reach his eyes. He reaches up and runs a finger down the center of my forehead, right where the pain was. Or where it still is. I'd forgotten it for a second in the sudden change of mood.

"You've had a rough night." His eyes skate over to Carlisle, and again the slight tremor to their lips alerts me to the fact they're communicating while purposely keeping the slower witted human out of the loop.

The corridor in my head opens wide and the doors rattle hard. All of them.

"Bella. I have the medicine we talked about earlier," Carlisle says, extending his hand with the small pill cup out in offering. I ignore him, though I do notice the unfamiliar pink pill in the center.

"I'm fine," I tell Edward. "Tell me what is going on." I force my voice to come out steady, but it isn't completely successful. I have no idea what is truly going on, but the doors in the corridor seem too open, too exposed. I want to close them, lock them. The walls flutter again, like they had earlier, cracks popping up in hidden corners. Like earlier I feel the pull and wonder if I can reshape the corridor. Make it bend to my will…

I fight the pull with a sharp indrawn breath knowing I must.

Edward frowns, his head tilting like he's listening to something or someone. His jaw clenches and he takes a step back from me, reaching into his pocket and drawing out his phone. His expression turns dark and utterly menacing as he looks at the screen.

And familiar.

I've seen this look. I know this look.

My blood feels like it turns into ice water.

I grab at his arm, afraid he's about to leave and then I won't know what's going on. His expression lightens, but the action seems to take too much effort. He looks wired and on the edge, and I shove the corridor back, then back farther still. I can't risk shielding. I have to stay in control, for his sake. I have to be strong.

I keep my arms on his and pull myself closer to him, not letting go until our bodies are aligned with barely any space between us. I tip my head back to look up at him and cup his face in my hands. His jaw is so cold it feels like it's been carved from ice. Goose flesh breaks out over every inch of my skin where the cold radiates outward from his body.

"Edward. Look at me," I demand softly, and with the corridor pushed as far away as I can manage, my voice regains some strength as my heart starts to steady. "I'm okay, I promise. Talk to me, don't shut me out. Tell me what's wrong. What's happening?"

The hand not clenched dangerously around the phone, its casing cracking slightly, reaches up and tenderly copies my touch on his face.

"Don't be afraid." It's more demand than plea. My heart tries to ratchet up its pace so I drag in air and nod, fighting the corridor and my desire to do something, anything.

"I won't let anyone harm you. You know this, yes?"

I nod again, digging my teeth into my lip to keep the panic at bay. I just manage to stop myself from yelling at him to just tell me already.

"I know. I'm not afraid. Talk to me."

His thumb gently tugs my lip from my teeth. He takes a long, indrawn breath before snapping his phone open and giving a cursory nod to Carlisle that seems to mean more than it appears. Carlisle nods back and moves to the window, his eyes scanning outside. I think I see a blur of something pass by. Maybe Jasper, but I can't tell.

Edward raises the phone to his ear, his voice dark and spoken through nearly clenched teeth. "What does he want, Emmett?"

**Edward's POV**

All the colour drains from Bella's face at my words, and I instantly curse my choice of using such a vague 'he'. She will know now that we have a visitor and her immediate assumption could instantly be of the worst case scenario. Still, she stands strong, her eyes searching mine for answers, somehow keeping herself together. Surely she must know deep down that if it was Jacob Black, I would not be standing before her now. I'd be knee deep in his torn apart carcass, slick with his blood and entrails.

As it is, even with the knowledge that this Pack member is no threat, I have not made the decision to spare his life. His only saving grace has been the fact that I needed to get to Bella first and until this moment, had not been certain he was alone.

"Says he just wants to talk to you." Emmett's voice is calm, modulated. "He's alone, or so he says. I can't smell or pick up anyone else. How about on your end?"

I close my eyes the better to focus on the minds of the others as they rapidly scout the area. So far Jasper has ranged the farthest out and he's picking up nothing, which seems to validate what Emmett is being told.

"Nothing so far," I tell him, letting him hear the edge of doubt in my tone. I suspect he's being told the truth, but trust broken cannot be mended so easily and I don't want Emmett to be complacent for a second.

"What does he want?" I repeat, more firmly this time. I reach out and brush Bella's hair back, hoping my touch will ease her. Keep her fears from prompting an involuntary reflex of her shield that could have devastating consequences. I'm walking a tightrope.

Something has happened to her tonight, but I'd only gleaned small bits and pieces from the minds of the other's as I'd gotten near the house. My presence and warnings had galvanized them into actions that had changed the trajectory of those thoughts, leaving me with gaping holes in my understanding. The fact that Carlisle seems to be both actively warning me to be more careful than normal with her, and actively baring me from seeing the details of a conversation they'd had, isn't helping.

Emmett huffs and in the background I hear a thumping sound. "I told you to sit. Now do it and stay there or next time I'll break your damn legs." His next sentence is directed at me.

"Like I said, he wants to talk to you. No one else. He says to tell you he wasn't going to come anywhere near the house, or Bella. He's been waiting for a chance to catch you out…"

I hear arguing and Emmett growls a low warning that silences the other voice, before continuing to address me. "He wasn't trying to sneak up on you. He says he was just trying to respect boundaries and stay away from Bella, like you asked."

I pinch the bridge of my nose striving for patience. It would seem that he is indeed alone as I continue to get reassurances from the others that they're encountering no trail or scent in any way of any other wolves. I'm not eased by the knowledge.

I study Bella, trying to decide what to do. It's clear I cannot keep this from her. To do so now would require bold faced lies and unforgivable deceit.

She looks back at me with clear eyes, still on her feet. Her heart beat is too fast, but not so much that it indicates overwhelming fear. She's nervous, but in control of her emotions.

For now.

I must be exceedingly careful in my revelations.

"Keep him there, Emmett. Stay alert. I'll call you back in a few minutes."

I hang up and quickly text Jasper, telling him to join Emmett and see if he can decipher if what he's being told is truth or fiction.

When I'm finished, I draw Bella closer to me. Her eyes are clear, but that little furrow between her eyebrows is present indicating that she's in the midst of one of her bad headaches.

"She's in pain. What's happened?" I ask Carlisle, keeping my voice to the level only he can hear. Clever and perceptive she frowns as her eyes fall to my mouth.

_Our discussion was private, Edward. It's her choice whether she speaks of it with you or not. As for the rest, yes she's in pain. She suffered an episode with Jasper earlier today. She's refusing any further medical tests and I've agreed to respect that so I cannot tell you what damage it may have done. She agreed to take some medications, but you saw her refuse them when you came in. This stress could not have come at a worse time. I might recommend sedating her if it wasn't for the fear that it will cause the very reaction we'd be trying to prevent._

The risk of that is, in my opinion, too great. If she feels attacked or forced, I have little doubt she will shield. Probably with violent force. I cannot imagine that she has much left in terms of strength to recover if that happens, so I shake my head at him minutely. Then I call for Rose, again not needing to raise my voice since she's thankfully close to the house.

My conversation with Carlisle takes only a fraction of a second, my summoning of Rose and her subsequent arrival only a fraction more. In the meantime I've drawn Bella closer still and placed a kiss between her eyebrows, rubbing her back soothingly as she relaxes somewhat against me. Despite my tension, I force my body to relax as much as it is able, striving for a place of calm that will enable me to reflect it back upon her.

Rose moves silently to Bella, already sensing what I need from her. She picks up a blanket off the sofa and comes and wraps it over Bella's shoulders like a shawl. It's only then I notice she's shivering a little and remember that my body will have taken on the outside frigid temperatures, leeching away precious warmth from her. I put a little more room between us and rub her upper arms gently to chafe some heat back into her skin.

Bella's eyes do not leave mine as Rose draws back away from her again. She's purposely kept her touch light and brief, lessening the chance that Bella will feel or react to her reading her emotions.

_She's mildly anxious but doesn't seem close to panicking, Edward_, Rose tells me. _I sense a really strong determination coming from her to stay in control actually._

I tip Bella's chin up to me and smile at her, striving for even more calm and to look reassuring instead of threatening. She fists her small hands in my shirt and attempts to do the same. It occurs to me that she's as concerned over my state of mind as I am of hers. Her next words confirm it.

"I'm not going to freak out. You can all relax. Whatever it is, just tell me."

Instead of doing so, I say instead, "Love, do you remember after the wedding, we talked about what had happened?"

She nods, giving me permission to continue.

"About how sometimes what you perceive to be a threat is not one at all?"

She nods again.

"Good. Because I need you to remember that now. I'm sorry I startled and worried you when I came in, but there is no danger, do you understand?"

"Okay."

"I need you to remember, to keep at the very forefront of your thoughts, that you are safe. You mustn't hurt yourself out of needless fear. Can you do that for me?" I've lowered my voice using the quality that she once would have accused me of using to dazzle her with.

"Yes."

"Good, love, very good." I brush my thumb across her lush lower lip and flip open my phone.

Jasper answers, immediately speaking without waiting for a greeting.

"He's telling the truth. He's alone and no one else is coming either. He's scared, but right now, seems to be only of you. He's also weak and not in the greatest shape. Might want to get Carlisle out here."

"Put him on the phone."

Bella watches me closely and I keep my eyes on hers, one arm around her gently, despite the fact I know it's making her cold. I move us surreptitiously closer to the fire. I don't think she notices.

"Don't be frightened," I tell her needlessly.

"I'm not. I'm okay."

I can see that she is. Always she is stronger even than I am. As the voice on the phone floats out to my ears, I can only think how often I've been denied revenge. Any kind of revenge, and oh how I still want to make someone pay for her pain. For our pain...

"Hello? Edward, is that you, man?"

"You're either very brave or very stupid, Seth Clearwater," I snarl, venom soaking my mouth as a little of my contained rage sneaks past my self control. Once again his childish recklessness is putting my mate in danger and my tolerance for his youth is past. "I warned you once that I would rip you to shreds. I'm very inclined at this moment to make that threat a very painful reality for you. Either way, you have ten seconds to tell me what you want before I decide what to do with you."

I'm not even certain I want to give him the ten...

* * *

**A/N So how many of you guessed it was Seth? Lol. I kind of gave it away early. ;-)**

** Next update, Fri. Nov. 12. Real life is very busy at the moment, but if I get a chance I'll try to move that update to an earlier time. Review replies may also fall by the way side. If you ask a specific question, I'll do my best to get back to you, otherwise accept my thanks in advance. Hopefully by now you all know how much I appreciate every review so pretty please leave me one anyway? :)  
**

**Btw, just to clarify. Edward first threatens Seth in chapter 43 after he shows up in the meadow just following the wedding ceremony. Hopefully you all remember this and can see why Edward is thinking about taking his pound of flesh, and why he's so intolerant. **

**Also, Karen, Charlie's future "live-in girlfriend" may seem as though she comes from left field, but in actuality she was given a brief mention in chapter 4. She was the secretary who Charlie arranged to give him a fake emergency phone call so he could leave Bella and Jacob alone. I figured if she was willing to 'lie' for him, she might just have a crush on him. This story is full of weird little connections/plans like that that would mostly go unnoticed, so I figured I'd point this one out. :)**

**Lastly, according to my research, Renee would have been 40 at this point in time. I could be wrong, but I'd appreciate it if you'd consider it creative license if I am. Women are safely delivering healthy children well past 40 these days, that's a fact.  
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**Aleea  
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	52. Chapter 52

**A/N **To those of you who have taken the time to leave constructive - and sometimes not so constructive - criticism, I'd just like to say that I know this is a wordy, long, complex story that isn't for everyone. I'm not a professional writer, just a twi fan trying to do something different with the characters we all love. I assure you all that I am very aware of my weaknesses, both as a writer and in this story. Writing in this manner - chapter by chapter as opposed to writing something in full before it ever sees the light of day - has been more difficult than I could have imagined. It doesn't give a writer the opportunity to properly edit a story. Once a chapter is posted, it's posted and all one can do is move on from there. Even with the most rock solid outlines it can be easy to get off track and even inadvertently paint oneself into a corner. For a writer such as myself, who has readily admitted to you guys on many occasions that I struggle with length issues, this way of writing can be problematic. It's a learning process, and I assure you all I'm working on it. That being said, while I do personally apologize to those of you who've felt annoyed, frustrated, or that I've wasted your time, I just can't and won't apologize for the story itself. I admit it's not perfect, not even close, but I wanted to write something that would explore, _in depth_, how these characters would react to this kind of adversity, trauma and betrayal, and I feel like I've accomplished that.

To those of you who have stuck with this wordy monstrosity and even gone so far as to sing its praises, I can't say thanks enough. (Que cheesy Wind Beneath my Wings music, lol.)

Now, on to the chapter. :) I didn't quite make my Friday deadline for this one, sorry. Real life is a shit storm sometimes and I made some last minute additions to this story that took me out of my time line. I thought Bella deserved a little TLC. ;-) In other words, lemon alert!

A few reminders before reading that may help with the context of this chapter. - From chapter 37, Suffer. - After Edward nearly kills Jacob and Bella has used her enabling power to strengthen Jasper's gift so that he can make Jacob feel what Bella felt during the attack, Edward imposes this final demand on Jacob. _"You will live," I tell him in an adamant dark hiss. "One lifetime, Jacob Black. One lifetime to remember what you've done, to live with the memories you tried to escape. How long that lifetime lasts is up to you so hear me now, dog. You will never come near her again. You will never force her to endure the sight of your face or the sound of your voice. Above all else," I snarl darkly, "you will never again let her name pass your lips." _

Bella's enabling power manifests early on in this story, but in case anyone has forgotten, this power allows her to strengthen, enhance, or in the case of Rose, draw forward another vampire's gift_. _It is a separate more subtle power than her shield. Like her shield though, it manifests in times of stress or emotional upheaval. _  
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Chapter is unbeta'd. Usual apologies for errors applies.

* * *

From chapter 51, Coming Back Around

_"Hello? Edward, is that you, man?"_

_"You're either very brave or very stupid, Seth Clearwater," I snarl, venom soaking my mouth as a little of my contained rage sneaks past my self control. Once again his childish recklessness is putting my mate in danger and my tolerance for his youth is past. "I warned you once that I would rip you to shreds. I'm very inclined at this moment to make that threat a very painful reality for you. Either way, you have ten seconds to tell me what you want before I decide what to do with you."_

_I'm not even certain I want to give him the ten..._

. . . . . .

Chapter 52 Collateral Damages

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

Standing there in that moment where once again the things we've tried to leave in the past pop up out of seemingly nowhere and without warning to torment us once again, fills me with bitter frustration. Seth Clearwater, too far away for me to read, is treading a fine line. Only the uncertainty of what he could want is buying him precious seconds.

The threat I utter makes Bella flinch and that reaction just adds further fuel to the flames of my anger. She has suffered enough.

"I'm sorry," he begins, his words rushed and jumbled together, telling me even without his thoughts bared to me that he is aware of how precarious his position is. "I didn't mean to… I wasn't trying to cause trouble. I swear. I just… I wanted to talk to you… Can you just meet me, for a minute, that's all I want. Please?"

He sounds exhausted. Beat down and ragged, but it's nothing to me as I growl loudly. The worry he's caused re-ignites my rage, dousing the frustration in a more familiar feeling. I am beyond fed up…

"Don't plead with me," I snarl loudly into the phone. "I owe you nothing. I threatened violence the last time I laid eyes on you, do you remember? Do you have any idea how close you are to having that be your reality?"

"Edward, stop, don't." Bella's hand clamps over mine where the cracked phone is in danger of crumbling to plastic and metal dust fragments. I'm surprised its even still working.

I'm boiling in rage induced venom, my voice gone thick with it. The small part of me that knows I'm irrational let's Bella's plea ground me.

I force air out of my nose in a violent exhale, striving for control and reminding myself that he is a child. A mostly innocent one.

Bella shakes her head. "No more," she whispers at me, her fingers covering the mouthpiece of the phone so her words will only be heard by me. "All this anger. We have to let it go, Edward. Whatever is wrong, whatever he wants, he's just a kid. None of this is his fault."

Her soft voice pulls me back from the abyss. The last mouthful of swallowed down venom burns my throat and my fingers unclench slowly. I trail my fingers gently down her face and throat, pausing on her now calm pulse and letting the rhythm lull me as it always does.

Once again her strength bests mine. She finds reason in insanity and forgiveness in the unforgivable, humbling me so that I could almost be ashamed of my rage.

Seth's breathing is ragged, broken. "I'm sorry… I just… I don't want anything, just a few minutes and then I'll be gone and I swear, you'll never hear from or see me again."

Bella drops her fingers away from the phone.

"Fine. You can say what you need to say. I'll be there…"

She shakes her head at me, placing cold fingers against my lips briefly, stopping me from continuing.

"Let him come here," she tells me quietly, turning her head to kiss the back of my hand with a tired sigh and a soft yet sad smile.

"No," I hiss adamantly. "Absolutely not."

She arches an eyebrow, the smile turning down. Her arms cross over her chest and the eyebrow goes up farther.

"Yes."

On the phone in the background, I hear Emmett snort and then laugh.

"Come on, puppy. Let's go. The boss has spoken; you're coming with us back to the house."

"Emmett," I snarl, "do not bring him…"

"Forget it, Edward," he laughs this time directly into the phone. "The kid's no threat. You're wife on the other hand is going to be able to kick my ass in the near future." He hangs up without waiting for a response and I nearly throw the phone. Bella's hand on my arm once again grounds me and I quickly check in with Jasper and Esme who confirm Seth still appears to be alone. They haven't picked up any scent or trace of another wolf, or anyone else for that matter.

Another quick call to the Denali clan and a few seconds on the phone with Irina confirms the same in their area. With a promise from her to be on the lookout, I end the call and draw Bella into my arms.

"I'm going to go meet them," I tell her, stroking my hands down her back. "I want you to stay here."

"Edward..."

"I want to know what I'm dealing with, Bella. Having him in close proximity to you..." I very nearly shudder with the thought, my unique musculature not capable of the action is the only reason I do not.

Bella tugs away from me. Despite her pale countenance, she looks determined to argue.

"I'll be surrounded by all of you. He can't hurt me, and he wouldn't anyway. This is Seth, Edward, not Jacob." Her fingers fly up to briefly cover my mouth once again. "And don't say it. I've already told you I'm fine. I won't let myself get upset, no matter what he says, okay?"

Capturing her hand in mine, I kiss her fingers with a hissed oath. "Just let me see what he wants..."

"I need you here with me," she replies quietly, cutting in before I can finish my sentence.

I search her eyes and find them clear and honest. Her heart rate is steady and calm, and though she looks exhausted I can see that she truly is fine. It's too late for me to meet them anyway, I catch the jumble of thoughts coming from Jasper and Emmett and Seth as they near the Lodge, and my rigid stance relaxes as I latch onto the ones coming from Seth.

He is alone and the news he brings, from what I can discern, is not unwelcome.

Taking Bella's hand I guide her out of our bedroom and down the hall to the main living room area. Carlisle has started a fire and Esme, Rose and Alice enter the room directly after us.

Alice's brow is tight with her scowl, her metaphorical gaze turned inwards, though she sees nothing but a heavy fog. I wonder that she continues to torture herself looking for something we all know she cannot possibly see. Not with a wolf about to enter the lion's den.

Rose brushes a comforting hand over Bella's shoulders and lets me know in her thoughts that Bella is as calm as she seems. Only the barest hint of anxiety shows in her mood and with her eyes steady on me, I can see that her concern has little to do with Seth and more to do with how she fears I may react to anything he might say or do. She holds my hand tightly and doesn't let go, even when I lead her to one of the sofas.

The instant she sits I hear them enter the house, the cold air that displaces the growing warmth in the room carrying the unpleasant smell inherent with the shape-shifter gene. He's blocking his thoughts from me now, or at least attempting to. My back tenses when they enter the room and I spin slowly towards him, my expression filled with a warning as I block Bella from his view with my body.

One word, one wrong move that upsets her, and I will make good on my threats. That is a fact. She is the only thing that matters.

**Bella's POV**

Edward steps in front of me and I can almost feel the growl he's trying to swallow quiver in my own throat. My hands are suddenly damp with sweat, a combination of nerves over Seth's unwelcome visit and Edward's volatile mood. There is such a thing as pushing a vampire too far and the mood in the room is heavy with tension. They're all quiet and very still. Too still.

Back on my feet I move to Edward's side, continuing to hold his hand as tight as I can. So tight in fact, my wrist and finger joints have begun to throb. It matches the pounding in my head that is a little worse, though I ignore both and look at Seth.

Something inside of me clenches hard for a moment. The shape of his face, the gold colour of his skin against the burning backdrop of his eyes, is all too familiar. Thankfully the feeling goes away almost as quickly as it comes and it's just Seth and not the echo of my past.

He looks like he's been to hell and back, and suddenly, all I feel is sadness and concern. Seth Clearwater looks every bit the boy that he is. Gangly, tall and even leaner than he was before. All ropey muscles and coiled wicked strength, yes, but combined with the aura of vulnerability and the hungry almost haunted gaze that sweeps the room, it is very clear there is nothing to fear from him.

His clothes are worn and filthy, what he wears of them anyway. Despite the frigid temperatures and the snowflakes slowly melting in his hair, he's holding more than he seems to be wearing. His feet are as bare as is his upper body, though he does have a shirt in his hand.

His skin suddenly flushes and he yanks it over his head as though he's just now remembered he's in mixed company. The worn blue fabric is covered with tears and stains and even a few burrs, their prickly spines clinging tenaciously to the cotton. Clearing his throat, he turns to Edward. He seems to be using a considerable amount of will power not to look at me, like he's worried that it will provoke Edward.

"I left the Pack," he blurts. His voice is deeper than before, but it cracks a little on the nerves he can't quite hide. He does look at me then, probably because I gasp at his statement, though the glance is fleeting.

"I'm alone. No one is with me."

"He's telling the truth," Jasper says, entering the room. Crossing his arms across his chest he moves to stand in a way that blocks the only exit. "There's no one else around for miles, least of all any dogs. Plus he's given off nothing but honest vibes from the second I've been around him."

Seth doesn't react to the slur or the comment that vouches for his honesty, still looking at Edward. Or a combination of Edward and his own dirt stained feet.

"You left the Pack? How?" My mind can't wrap around what Seth has just said, and I find myself taking a step closer to him when I see a flash of pain cross his features. He covers it quickly, trying for a mask of indifference. He continues to keep from looking at me, but he does nod in answer.

Edward is still rigid at my side and he's taken a step forward as well. The movement aligns his body with mine in such a way that is clearly protective. "After Jacob passed out in the woods that day you showed him what he'd done to you, the Pack was left temporarily without an Alpha, giving Seth and the others free will," he states, filling in the blanks for Seth who is trembling slightly now in exhaustion.

Seth nods again, dragging one unsteady hand through his matted hair. "It only lasted a few minutes. After you all left, Ja...um," he stutters, casting a nervous look at Edward, obviously uncertain if he should use Jacob's name. "He came to again and gave the Pack back to Sam. He was just starting to heal, but he wouldn't let anyone help him. He staggered away and vanished in the woods. Without the Pack mentality no one could track him, and things were so chaotic at first..." He shrugs weakly. "Ja... He was the true Alpha, Ephraim's heir." His eyes dart to me again and though it is brief, I think I see a flash of apology before they dart back to Edward. "Sam couldn't control him if he didn't let him, I guess."

"The true heir holds all the power. Sam has only ever really been a second in command to a defunct, inactive leader," Edward confirms. "Sam lost control of him that day when Jacob took his rightful place. Once that tie was broken, it can't be re-established."

Seth seems to sag a little, his exhaustion even clearer. "Right before he left, before he gave the Pack back to Sam, something in me just...broke. I couldn't do it anymore. Couldn't be a part of all of that. So I made a choice..."

Edward's tone is cold and hard. "You stayed with Jacob Black."

"I had my reasons," Seth defends, a spark of something like anger showing in his face for the first time. "I didn't do it out of loyalty; you of all people have to see that." He points to his head illustrating his thoughts, and then just like that the spark fades and his shoulders sag again. Edward's rigid stance seems to relax slightly as well, though not enough for me to relax myself.

Esme suddenly steps forward and gestures to the sofa behind Seth. "Why don't you sit down," she says softly. "You look very tired, Seth." Her kindness and attempt at hospitality seems to break down more of the tension in the room. I sense a subtle shift in the mood, the air of tension dissipating so that it feels lighter around me.

Seth shakes his head at her. "I'm really dirty, ma'am, I, uh..."

"Sofa's can be cleaned," she replies, ever the gentle matriarch and a true compassionate match for Carlisle.

"Or they can be thrown out," Rose snarks disdainfully. Her nose wrinkles in mild disgust, but I notice she sits on the arm of one of the overstuffed chairs where Emmett has just sat, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder while his rests on her knee. Their posture is relaxed and I see that Alice has also moved. She's beside Jasper who is still blocking the doorway, though his stance no longer resembles that of a guard. He wraps an arm around Alice's waist and tugs her to him. I lean against Edward as well, suddenly feeling the weight of a very long day settling around me like lead. His arm around my waist is both comforting and bracing.

Carlisle adds another log to the fire and then moves to my side. "We should all sit," he says with a look to Edward that speaks volumes as he draws me away and back to the other sofa. I sink down gratefully and he crouches in front of me for a moment. His gaze is clinical and professional, and I know I'm being assessed.

"I'm okay," I tell him in a near whisper, grateful when he seems to believe me and moves back to Esme's side. Edward is watching the exchange intently. He nods his head at Carlisle, their silent communication apparent in the loaded looks between them before he turns back to Seth.

He's still standing, though he looks even more tired if that's possible.

"I didn't come here to cause trouble. I'm sorry that it did. I thought if I could find you alone, Edward..." He heaves out a shaky breath, clearly repentant. "There was no other way to contact you. No way to phone or..."

"How did you find us?" Edward interrupts.

"He told me."

Edward curses and takes a sharp step forward, but Seth holds up his hand.

"He hasn't been anywhere near, I swear to you. He figured it out based on something Bella told him a long time ago. And he only had a general idea. I've been looking for weeks and was almost about to give up when I finally caught your scents a few miles from here."

_Something I told him?_ My heart clenches and I shudder at the thought that I could have given out information inadvertently at some point in time when I'd still trusted and believed that Jacob Black was my friend.

"But he sent you here." Edward isn't asking, his tone of voice scathing and hostile. I get up and hurry back to his side, placing a hand I hope will restrain him a bit on his chest. He instantly puts me half behind him again.

"No!" Seth's tone is adamant. "I came on my own."

"He's telling the truth, Edward." A slight feeling of calm descends over everyone with Jasper's statement, his gift adding power to his words. He watches me intently though, obviously ready to pull back the second I show any adverse reactions. I feel a slight tug from the place in my head where the corridor resides.

Silence falls on the room, and Edward and Seth stare at one another for what feels like a long time. I realize Seth is trying to show Edward things in his thoughts, and that Edward is paying very close attention. His expression while dark and forbidding, is also full of concentration.

Again I feel the weight of this seemingly endless day and suddenly I've had enough. "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?" I snap. I turn back to Seth. "Why are you here? What do you want? Is Jacob looking for us? Is he...coming here?" My legs almost give out on me at the thought. Not out of fear, but out of sheer dismay that this might not be over. That somehow all of this hasn't been enough, that there might still be more to come, fills me with so much dread it nearly engulfs me. The corridor in my head opens wide this time, but I somehow manage to close it again. My shield can only make things worse at this point and I have to control it. I have to.

Edward's arms wrap around my waist and he murmurs soft assurances. I struggle for control over the panic trying to swamp me, and bit by bit I regain it.

**Edward's POV**

Bella shakes in my hold, her breathing accelerating rapidly as she begins to panic. The one emotion I'd been the most worried about and the one that I - in my own rage and self involved emotions - had not done enough to guard against. Seth's mind has been a whirlwind of thoughts. My attention on him while I've tried to decipher them all and make sense of his mind has been so absolute; I'd allowed it to distract me from her wellbeing.

Carlisle has a heavy dosage of sedatives in a syringe in his pocket having been more prepared than I for this unwanted eventuality. Before he can make a move to administer the medication, she's already recovering and fighting her fear back down.

Drawing in a deep shuddering breath, she sags against me a little before just as quickly straightening her spine and controlling her breathing.

"I'm alright," she murmurs as colour returns to her skin.

"Sit down, love," I tell her softly and lead her back to the couch. My fingers trace her face and listen as her heart beats back to its normal rhythm. She touches my face in return and smiles weakly, telling me yet again that she's okay.

"He's not coming here, Bella. I promise you that," Seth tells her quietly, his desire to reassure her making him brave my wrath by addressing her directly and speaking her name. Though I'd only forbid Jacob and Billy Black from such a thing, he's been wary enough about my reaction to tread very carefully. Now in his mind he struggles to adopt a tone that won't frighten her further. "That's why I'm here. To tell you that he knows what he did to you. He's remembered it all."

Her eyes widen and I just barely resist the urge to snarl at Seth to shut up, still worried this all could prove too much for her.

"He remembers?" Her voice trembles but she stays strong.

"Yeah." Seth sighs and sinks down on the floor, too tired to stand, yet too worried about wrecking the furniture he sees as terrifyingly pristine to accept Esme's offer of the sofa. His story pours out, and I'll I can do is hold Bella's hands as we listen to him document Jacob Blacks confession.

"I followed him," he begins. "After I realized I wasn't part of the Pack, after how upset I made you all that last day in Forks, I knew I had to get away. I couldn't stomach anymore. There was nothing left for me. Not with everything I knew about my Mother and the Elders and Sam and Leah, and everything else that went down." Small droplets of melted snow drip off his hair, dampening his dirty shirt. Looking up he stares at the fire, his gaze empty and his tone turning almost monotone.

"I was just a puppet to them anyway, with their prejudice and hate that I never really believed in. I never understood why they hated you all so much. And I always thought Jacob was wrong for how hard he chased Bella, for the way he wouldn't let her go when it was so obvious to me and anyone who looked that you guys were meant to be together. I kept thinking about how he used to be and what he turned into, and I worried that could be me if I stayed and let their hate keep poisoning me the way it did him and Leah, and the others too in different ways."

His hands in his lap are limp and he looks as broken as his thoughts show him to be. He turns his head to me again, and then to Bella. The innocent boyish crush he's always had on her is tempered now by reality and the loss of the same innocence that had spawned it. He stares at her and his pain filled thoughts slice me, matching my own to some extent as I see her through his eyes. How different she looks, how frail. And yet he sees the fire in her eyes and the determined way she watches him, not flinching, absorbing what he tells us with what he deciphers as a core of steel intact despite all that has happened.

_She always was strong. Jacob never got that. Never understood that she had her own mind and wasn't some little wilted flower he could own. Stupid, what he did to her, how he thought he could take away her will... _

"I followed Jacob's trail for weeks before I found him," he continues out loud, his thoughts falling away and being replaced by the things he describes. "He was so deep inside the wolf in him, I couldn't track his thoughts. All I had was the echo in my mind that told me when I was close and when I wasn't. He sensed me, too," he adds, his attention turning further in towards his memories that play out for me like a movie reel.

The endless days and nights of tracking. Of getting close and then losing the trail when Jacob evaded him. The sleepless days, the cold and the pain of his wolf paws being torn apart on rough terrain only to heal and tear apart again and again. The meagre meals he'd found that had done little to ease his hunger pangs as Jacob's trail led him deeper and deeper into the Canadian wilderness and the mountain ranges that provided so little game. He found him eventually, when Jacob realized he wasn't going to go away and allowed him to catch up.

"He's dead inside," Seth states quietly. "Nothing left really of who he used to be. I shifted back to human form and built a fire. I couldn't communicate with him in wolf form. He's too strong. Not even Sam could block us from his mind, but Jacob could. I never even realized until then that he'd probably been doing it all along. Blocking us from things he didn't want us to know." His eyes on Bella are apologetic and I can see in his thoughts the weight of guilt he carries for failing to notice that before. Before it was too late to save either Bella or Leah.

"Eventually, when he saw I wasn't going to leave he changed back, too."

Seth looks at Bella again and I fight the desire to demand he look elsewhere, reminding myself that he is not Jacob Black and peeling away the layers of his inner thoughts for the proof I need to confirm it. I recognize the tingle in my skin and mind that comes from Bella. Her desire to know the truth is heightening my ability to read Seth's thoughts, the enabling powers within her feeling similar, but not identical, to the manifestation of her shield. Like sticky spider webs spinning through my dry veins. She watches him, oblivious to what she is doing to me.

"I told him I wasn't going to leave," Seth tells us. "That I'd follow him no matter where he went. That I wasn't going to let him..." He trails off and looks to me as though he's not sure he should continue.

"Tell her," I say, and he nods. His mind is an open book now, with subtle layers of context and thought spelled out as clearly as his conscience.

"I told him I'd follow him forever or until I knew he'd never try to hurt you again, Bella." His voice is soft, his eyes sad as he looks at her.

"Why?" she whispers, her voice cracking a little as she swallows past the lump she must have in her throat. Her unshed tears waver in her eyes reflecting the light in the room. "Why would you do that, Seth?"

"Hero complex much?" Rose snorts mockingly. "Or did you think we couldn't protect her, mutt?"

Seth doesn't rise to Rose's baiting, and he doesn't look away from Bella and I. "I'm not trying to be anyone's hero. I was just trying to right some of the wrongs my family and Pack did to you." He shrugs again, looking uncomfortable. "It's all I knew to do. After Leah..." Seth's words catch in his throat and he blinks rapidly, dragging in a deep breath before continuing.

"After I told him that, he told me that he'd remembered it all. He said it came to him in bits and pieces, and that he knew now what kind of a monster he was. The kind that couldn't ever live again, not outside of his wolf form." Seth runs chapped, wind worn hands over his face wearily. As though he can scrub the images out of his mind of a broken Jacob Black with bottomless black eyes staring at him over a fire like he had no soul, no heart. Like whoever he was had been eaten away until all that was left was that shell sitting there across from him.

"He said his word meant nothing, and he knew it, but the sentence the vampire gave him would be served." Seth's gaze turns back to the fire, the volume in his voice dropping to a near whisper before his eyes dart back to me. In Jacob's words, he repeats nearly verbatim the punishment I'd sentenced him to that day in the woods when I'd nearly taken his worthless life. "He said; 'I will spend one lifetime remembering what I've done, and living with the memories I tried to escape. I will never go near her again. I will never force her to endure the sight of my face or the sound of my voice. Above all else, I will never again let her name pass my lips." He rubs the back of his neck and exhales hard. "That's when he told me where he thought you guys would be. Said if I wanted to play guard dog I could, but it would be a waste of time." He looks at me sheepishly, his face turning ruddy as he realizes I can see in his thoughts that playing guard dog was his exact intention in those moments when he'd sat with Jacob Black by that fire.

"Then he banished me from his Pack," Seth continues, looking back at the fire, his thoughts expressing feelings too raw and exposed to allow him to hold my gaze any longer. He is completely alone now and he seems to just be realizing fully what that means. "The second he said it, I felt and heard nothing but the deepest silence. And just like that, I blinked and he was gone. I tried for awhile to pick up his trail again, but I couldn't. It's like he vanished but in those few minutes when I was sitting by the fire waiting for him to change, he let me in his head and I can tell you he meant what he said. There was nothing in him that wanted revenge or felt like he had any right to you, Bella. Nothing."

Bella does start to cry then, but her tears fall in silence and she wipes them away quickly. Rising to her feet she ignores my restraining arm and goes to kneel in front of him.

"Thank you," she murmurs. "For telling me, for trying to look out for me."

Seth nods briskly in reply. Clearing his throat he quickly rubs one hand roughly over his eyes that glisten the same as Bella's. His mind shows me he is at the end of his emotional rope. Exhausted and bereft and lost.

"It's not enough," he says, shaking his head sadly at her. "It doesn't mean anything, but for what it's worth, you have my word I won't ever let anyone from the Pack hurt you again, Bella. I swear it on my sister's grave. I can't take back what she did, what any of them did, but it won't happen again. Not as long as I'm breathing."

Despite the tears in his eyes, his words are steel, coming from a place inside of him that is no longer a boy. The power of his shape-shifter ripples under his skin. In his gaze that he levels on me as he rises to his feet, I can see, hear and feel the conviction of his vow. Whether Bella knows it or not, he's just sworn his life to her.

Seth rises to his feet and nods at me one final time. A brief bob of his head. "I'll go now. Thanks for letting me have my say." He starts for the door and Bella looks back at me, sadness in her eyes so deep it makes me ache. I don't need to be able to read her mind to see the plea she extends at me.

"Stay," I tell him. "You don't have to leave now. You're hungry and tired. You came a long way and suffered a lot to tell us all of this."

"I'm fine," Seth replies, his dirt stained chin lifting in pride and defiance, wanting nothing of my pity.

"Please stay, Seth," Bella requests. "It's freezing outside and it looks like the weather is only going to get worse."

He looks at her and his expression softens. "I'm fine, Bella. Wolf genes, remember?" He blanches a bit as his mind regrets the callous way he'd referred to himself, then his look softens further as does his voice. "You don't need me here, reminding you of everything you've been through. I'm a big boy now," he tries for a laugh but it comes out sounding hollow. He turns back to the doorway again and Bella tries to get to her feet to stop him. Her hands are trembling and I can see the pain that crosses her face as she tries to uncurl her legs, telling me the swelling in her joints is worsening.

Instantly I move to her side, brushing her hair from her face as she whimpers and pales. With utmost care I lift her tenderly into my arms and she puts her face to my neck, hiding her reaction from the others and exhaling shakily.

Seth watches, concern churning in his thoughts.

_She's sick. Like really sick. What's wrong with her? _

"You'll stay here tonight," I tell him, ignoring the questions in his head, the unmistakable sound of an order not a request ringing in my tone. "I need to look after my wife right now, but we'll talk in the morning."

I leave the room then, knowing that whether he wants to stay or not Seth isn't going anywhere. Jasper and Emmet are already moving to ensure he can't leave and Esme is balancing their obvious show of solidarity and strength with a wave of Motherly concern, leading Seth to the kitchen for a much needed hot meal. His stomach growls loudly despite his meagre attempt at polite protests and he follows her eagerly, not particularly bothered by Jasper and Emmett's presence behind him. His thoughts waver between gratefulness at the idea of food and a comfortable place to sleep, and the desire to leave here and change back to his wolf form. As I enter our bedroom cradling Bella gently, he opts for the meal and the place to sleep, foul smelling as it might be, too wracked by bone numbing fatigue and a weariness that sits deep in his soul to refuse.

I close our door tightly and shut off his thoughts just as effectively. Bella is no longer enabling my gift and the lack of it makes the normal mind noise in my head seem nearly silent in comparison.

I settle her gently on our sofa and kneel down in front of her, brushing more loose tendrils of hair from her face. Her eyes are closed, but she opens them on a shaky exhale and gives me a tired smile.

"Well, that was a lot to absorb," she says, trying to make light with a small fake laugh.

"You're in pain. Let me get you something."

She shakes her head. "No, no pills, no drugs. I'm okay. I just need a minute to...breathe." She exhales again as I give her the minute she requests, chafing her cold hands gently with mine. She rises suddenly and walks across the room to the window. Following, I wrap my arms around her waist from behind, urging her to lie back against me which she does so with a sigh.

"Do you think Jacob really remembers?" Her voice is so quiet I might not have heard her was my hearing not so acute. I don't answer right away, allowing my head to fill with Seth's memories, watching Jacob's face in the flashbacks, scrutinizing his expressions and actions.

"Yes. I think he does," I tell her after a moment.

She wraps her arms around mine, sliding her still cool palms over my forearms, nestling her fingertips under the cuffs of my sweater.

"Does it ease you at all to know he can no longer hide behind the mental block in his mind?" I ask gently.

"I don't know," she answers honestly. "I guess I accepted the fact he'd never truly remember. I don't really understand how he could. I thought the drugs in the wine would make that impossible."

"In a human it is likely those memories would be lost forever," I answer. "But he isn't entirely human. His mind could heal from the effects of the Rohypnol, and it would seem it has."

Outside the snow swirls, coming down heavier now. The wind has abated so their downward fall is lazy. A gentle drifting and spinning that coats everything in layers of soft, sparkling white.

"Is it wrong," she whispers, "that I almost pity him?"

I can smell her tears before I feel them hit the skin on my hands as they fall. Gently I turn her towards me and tip her face up to mine. She's so achingly beautiful.

"No," I tell her, though I could never be as generous. "Nothing you feel is wrong, love."

"I don't want to hate anymore, Edward. I don't want to be angry or afraid or want bad things for anyone anymore."

Taking her face in my hands, I kiss her gently, meaning to soothe but her hands twine into my hair and she rises on tiptoe, tugging me closer. The action to me feels like the brushing of butterfly wings, but I know she is using the last of her strength. Fierce and demanding, seeking comfort and escape. Something I'm very willing to provide. For both of us.

I lift her to me to ease her strain and deepen the kiss until she moans her need into my mouth, her legs coming up to wrap around my waist.

Carrying her to the bed, I lay her down carefully and undress her slowly, taking my time to touch every bared inch of skin until the only cries coming from her mouth are tearless and filled with pleasure. Knowing she needs tenderness and affection as much as she needs the release of sex, I make my normally gentle touch even more so. My hands unerringly find the curves and sensual dips of her body, caressing them until she's feverish in her need.

She arches into me and I remove my own clothing with inhuman speed aching to be inside of her. Despite the need that claws at me, I slow down once again and cradle her face between my palms, aligning our bodies but not taking her yet. I let one of my hands slide down her flesh, cupping the delicate flare of her hip.

"You are my life," I tell her, easing inside of her and relishing the flare of pleasure that fills her eyes and makes her pant, focusing on her and not the nearly overwhelming pleasure that swamps my senses. When I cannot be any more deeply sheathed within her, I stop, letting her body adjust to the invasion of mine, her heat seep into my skin.

Bella shudders and arches her back, her thighs trembling and her eyes falling closed as I begin to move. Slowly I stoke that heat and desire inside of her until she's calling my name with abandon, lost to everything but the call of our bodies.

"Come for me, Bella," I groan as I feel her already beginning that sweet, tugging spiral into her bliss, not wanting her to hold back. My hand on her hip spans inwards. Her tiny frame easily allows my large hand to hook around her body in such a way that I can find that tight, swollen bead of her clitoris with my thumb. Stroke it softly until she keens and arches and spills her pleasure over me in the sweetest abandon.

My teeth clench as I hiss her name in greedy approval, her body clenching around me, milking me, dragging me with her into oblivion. I have no power to resist the demands of her uninhibited response, and with a loud growl of possession and heat, I rear away from her to throw the excess power of my body into the headboard, snapping it nearly in half. The dozens of anchors that bolt it into the wall in precaution of just this very thing, hold the halves in place.

My arms curl back around her, pulling her closer to me again now that the danger of my physical response has passed. Still rocking inside of her velvet wet heat, I lace kisses over her panting mouth. A soft whimper falls from her lips as I move deeper, stroking the most sensitive inner wall of her sex with precise thrusts.

Her skin dampens with perspiration and she trembles, her hips rising to meet mine, hungry again, seeking. Her nails attempt to bite into my back as I murmur encouragement.

"Does that feel good, love?" I murmur against her neck, though I can tell that it does. Small sparking sensations of electricity radiate between us, that heat and energy that has existed from the moment I first touched her in a biology classroom a lifetime ago. So much stronger now with our connection.

"Yes, oh God, yes, Edward. Don't stop, please, don't stop."

As if I could. As if I ever would.

The taste of her skin fills me as I move my mouth to her neck then down to her flushed breasts. The flick of my tongue against her taut, rosebud nipples sends her careening over the edge again; her loud cry of bursting pleasure the sweetest sound in the world.

I keep her in her bliss as long as I can, keeping my movements inside of her steady and sure, feeling her muscles clench and spasm around me. Her back arches like a drawn bow, her heels digging into the mattress, hands clenching in the sheets, resplendent in her pleasure. Slowly she begins to relax, releasing the tension that has kept her drawn up tight for hours.

Taking us to our sides without losing the connection of our bodies, I pull her leg over my hip, still rocking gently within her.

"Look at me, love."

She opens her eyes, pleasure drunk and so beautiful, so exquisitely beautiful I know I will never tire of this. I ache for her, so insatiably hungry, harder inside of her now than I was before, but the shadows beneath her eyes remind me that she cannot accommodate this need in me. Not yet...

I kiss her mouth, then trail my thumb over her lips, gathering the venomous moisture I'd left there and drawing it down her body to the place we're joined, stroking in circles that make her tremble and gasp.

"That's it, love. Come for me one last time. Let it go, let it all go..."

She calls my name, her climax gentle this time, like rocking in warm waves.

As the last one curls up within her and then drifts away, I draw the blankets over us and nestle her against me, kissing her eyelids closed.

"Sleep, now, my life, my heart. You're safe. I have you. I won't let you go."

"I love you," she murmurs, even as her body melts into mine, falling under the weight of her exhaustion.

"And I you," I whisper back to her, though she's already asleep. She smiles as though she hears me in her dreams.

As the snowfall outside blankets the world around us, I listen to the sound of my family caring for a werewolf. Bella's words come back to me, echoing in my head around the sounds from the other room.

"_I don't want to hate anymore, Edward. I don't want to be angry or afraid or want bad things for anyone anymore."_

I wonder if it's possible. If she and I can ever find that kind of forgiveness and peace after all that has happened.

It seems impossible. I pray that it isn't...

In the kitchen I hear Seth compliment Esme on the sandwich she'd made for him. Rose asking when the last time was he'd eaten, her tone disgusted yet tinged with amused thoughts as she places a drink in front of him. Carlisle, asking to see the healing abrasions on his palm, and Emmett, holding up a pickle and making a crude joke that nearly causes Seth to choke on his food. Alice, smacking him on the back, and Jasper rolling his eyes and chuckling when Seth yelps at how cold she is.

Over it all, Bella's soft breathing and steady heartbeat anchor me to her. In this moment it almost feels as though anything is possible.

Even the impossible.

. . . . . .

* * *

A/N Next update Nov. 29/2010


	53. Chapter 53

A/N. Hey everyone. Long time no update, I know. I haven't felt up to writing for quite awhile. Things have been...hard. Nuff said.

The good news is I'm back. The bad news is...I'm back. Lol. Guess it all depends on whether you forgive the lengthy absence, or not, and whether you love or hate this chapter and the ones coming after, or not. ;-)

Thanks to everyone who nominated FBR for The Twinklings Awards in the Dark Angel, Coven Empress, and Angst Goddess categories. Also thank you to those who helped FBR squeak onto the Top 100 fanfics list on the Darker Twilight blog.

A HUGE special thanks goes out to **solareclipses** for pre-reading and all her invaluable help, guidance and support with this chapter. I'd still be self-doubting and second-guessing if it wasn't for her words of wisdom and logic. You rock, girl and I'm beyond honoured to have a writer of your talent take the time to help me out.

. . . . . .

Quick reminder. We left off last chapter after Seth came to the Lodge to tell everyone about his meeting with Jacob. He divulged that Jacob now remembers what he did and is willing to live by the rules Edward dictated when he agreed to let him live. (chapter 36)

* * *

**Chapter 53 **

**Transcendence**

_And I feel like I'm breaking up, and I wanted to stay. Headlights on the hillside don't take me this way. I don't want you to hold me; I don't want you to pray. This is bigger than us... _White Lies – Bigger than us.

. . . . . .

_The morning after Seth's visit._

**Edward's POV**

_Day one…_

In the gray light of dawn and that peculiar hush that comes from a land that has been blanketed in a fresh fallen snow, we make love. Each sigh and breathless little moan Bella emits drive me nearly insane. The way her soft, frail body curves into me, the heat and scent of her skin, her desire, the perfect trust that frees her to give herself without restraint or pretense taking me higher and igniting lust I fear I can never fully sate. When she shudders and comes apart in my arms, she shatters me. The pieces of my fragmented body and mind come back together slowly... So slowly... And all I want is to do it again...

Afterward, sated and still drowsy, it takes little to coax her to stay in bed and go back to sleep. I leave the warmth of her body and our bed reluctantly once she's returned to her quiet dreams, dressing silently and leaving the room.

In the kitchen I find Esme cleaning up the remnants of the breakfast she'd prepared for Seth.

"Do you think Bella would like French toast when she wakes, Edward? They were making it last night on The Food Network. It looked like it might appeal to her, perhaps?"

I smile and drop a kiss on the top of her head. "Perhaps. But don't worry about it for now. I think she'll sleep for a while yet."

She sighs and leans against the counter, her fingers worrying the cloth of the dish towel she holds. Like Carlisle, like all of us, she's become so adept at feigning human habits, little actions like this have become second nature.

Following her gaze out the window, I can see Seth sitting outside. In only his tattered short sleeve shirt and jeans he should be freezing, but appears almost as impervious to the cold as we are. Vapours of steam from his breath plume in the air and mingle with the steam that rises from his damp, freshly washed hair and off his bared skin.

"He's too young to be so alone, Edward."

I pinch the bridge of my nose as her thoughts of what we can do to help him spin through her mind. She is right. He is too young to be alone. And yet he has made his choice and seems to be at peace with it. I tell her so and she nods, turning back to the sink and the dishes. She wonders if we should ask him to stay with us for now. She thinks of the empty caretaker's cottage that would need work yet could be a suitable home for a visitor who might not be comfortable in the Lodge with us. Then she instantly thinks of Bella and worries that such an offer could add stress to the daughter who is already so fragile. Above all else, Esme will protect her children first, even if it means forsaking another child to do so.

"How is Bella feeling?" she asks, quick to move her thoughts away from Seth in a bid not to place pressure on me. "Last night would have been a lot for her to absorb, and she'd already had such a difficult day."

"She's tired," I answer truthfully.

"She showed amazing strength last night and yesterday, Edward. I know that physically she is becoming more and more drained, but emotionally she's showing such fortitude. She is going to be a force to be reckoned with," she laughs, covering the worries we all feel in regards to Bella's transformation with humour and images of Bella, beautiful and fierce in immortality.

I nod but the metaphorical knot in my immovable stomach finds a way to twist, as though the iron rigidity of the organ has somehow mutated back to its human form. I had tasted the illness on her lips and skin only moments ago as I'd made love to her. The flavour still lingers, a bitter taint that draws doubts into my mind like poison to infect hope.

The fact that Seth's unexpected arrival last night had stolen away my chance to speak with her about her change and assure her that she need not wait on me, sits uncomfortably in my thoughts. I vow to make time for that discussion at some point today. With a last moment to listen in and reassure myself that Bella is still sleeping peacefully, I head out to speak to the young wolf in our yard.

He hears me coming and shifts his position on the back of a wrought iron bench to make room for me. His bare feet have melted the snow where they rest on the seat and the water droplets make a soft sound as they fall on the ground beneath him. I join him, mimicking his seating. He's holding a half full mug of coffee, the contents long grown cold so that a thin layer of ice is forming across the murky liquid. He doesn't seem to notice. His mind is quiet, observant of all that is around him but otherwise detached.

I break the quiet, settling forward to rest my elbows on my thighs, hands clasped in front of me. "What are your plans now, Seth?" I see no reason to beat around the bush and if he's surprised by my lack of polite small talk, it doesn't show.

His lips curl downwards, his brow crinkling as his thoughts reawaken. He envisions several places in rapid succession. The Reservation, Forks, the woods and the Rockies, a friend's house, several relatives. He settles on none of them.

"I haven't decided yet, but I've got time." He looks at me and the wisdom in his eyes belies the youth of his face. "I'm in no hurry to settle anywhere in particular." He waves his hand outwards to encompass the deep Denali wilderness stretching out around us. "I'm kind of liking the whole free range roaming thing," he adds with a grin. His thoughts return to the view in front of us and I wonder if he's purposely keeping me out, or just content to be in the moment.

"I'd ask you to stay..." I begin, but his sharp laugh stops me. His eyes sparkle a little with true amusement as he looks at me, softening the incredulous spike of thought that had bitten into the laugh.

"No offense, man, but no." He crinkles his nose thinking that staying one night in a fit of exhaustion is one thing, but bearing the vampire stench for any long length of time isn't highly appealing. He attempts to soften the sting by mocking me. "Besides, we both know that offer had a 'but' coming up at the end. I know your little psychic has trouble seeing around me, and more importantly, _I_ don't want to stress Bella anymore than _you_ want me to stress Bella."

Seth rolls his shoulders, the powerful cords of muscles under his skin stretching the cheap thin cotton shirt.

"How is she?" he asks hesitantly, his mind flickering over the images he's stored there of her from last night as I'd lifted her into my arms and carried her from the room. She looks pale and thin and unwell, and though I am familiar with every nuance of her appearance, even I want to flinch away from those images. Each one is more drastic in his thoughts, based as they are on the comparison he has from the last time he'd seen her.

"She's resting," I answer, though really that isn't an answer at all.

"She's sick, isn't she?" he asks, turning sharp intelligent eyes my way.

I do not look back at him, keeping my gaze trained on the woods and the landscape. "Yes." There is no reason to hide the truth he can see for himself.

The curse word he utters is sharp, cutting the cold air with the heat of his emotion. "Why is she still human, vampire?" Eyes hard and dark with forced maturity regard me angrily. He's thinking of Leah and the futility of her death. "It's what she wants, what you both have fought for. Whatever is wrong with her can be fixed by making her what you are, right?"

"It isn't that simple." A few sporadic flakes fall from the sky and I hold my hand out, allowing one to settle into my palm. The individual crystals glisten slightly against my skin, white on white, ice on ice.

"What's not simple? You bite her, infect her, she changes and it cures whatever is wrong with her. I've heard enough stories to know that's how it works, Edward."

A few more snowflakes join the first on my palm, and then a few more. When I turn to him, I know my eyes have gone black from the mirror like reflection of myself I see in his mind.

"Bella is what's known in my world as a shield, Seth. As a vampire she would be like me, or Alice, or Jasper. Gifted, as they say, but as a mortal..." I look away from him when I sense my facade of humanity has fallen away to the extent it is making him uncomfortable. There is still a core of icy anger in me yet, and it is easily tapped into with the emergence of the memories I will never be free from. "Jacob's _actions_ tore down walls that should have never come down in her mind while she was still human. The human mind is a powerful thing, but the human body is not. There is a reason why mortals do not use the full extent of their brains..." The biology lesson is superfluous and I search for a better way to make him understand Bella's current state.

Tipping my hand, I let the unmelted snowflakes fall away and continue their journey to the ground. "Do you remember," I ask, "the days and moments just before your first transformation to your wolf form?"

He doesn't need to answer, his mind spills forth a wealth of images and thoughts that clearly show the pain and fear and illness that had swamped him, overwhelmed him.

"You thought you would die," I say quietly, perceiving his emotions in those moments straight from the source of those images. "That your body would burn to ash in the fever, or be torn apart by the spasms of tortured muscles and joints. You did not think you could survive such an unnatural change."

"But I did," he says vehemently and not without pride.

"Yes," I reply. "You did. Because you are made to be what you are. "

He swallows, understanding dawning in his face. "But she isn't. Is that what you're telling me? That this thing Jacob woke up in her, this power, this shield, that it's killing her?"

I turn back to the woods and nod. "Yes. It's killing her. Slowly, bit by bit, Bella is dying. If I change her, she may not survive it, Seth."

In the house I hear Bella rising from our bed, entering the washroom. I hear the water running and the sound it makes as she splashes it over her hands and face. The sounds of her fingers raking through her hair, tugging at the tangles from sleep and lovemaking, mix with the sounds of her heartbeat.

I hear and see Esme begin to make Bella's breakfast as she registers the movements as well. See Carlisle move from his study to the hall as Bella slips from our room. In his mind I see she still looks tired despite the extra sleep, her eyes unfocused and uncertain as he guides her to the kitchen.

When she takes the tea from Esme's hand her fingers tremble and her soft spoken thanks comes from a tight throat, her movements stilted as though it hurts her to move too quickly.

"Christ, what a mess," Seth mutters, running his hand over his face. For a moment his thoughts turn to Jacob and he wonders why I didn't kill him. He doesn't think he could do the same if it had been him in my place.

"For her," I answer his unspoken question. "Everything I do, everything I am, is for her."

In my mind I know time is running out. I have no idea how many days are left to us. I only know I must hold to each one like the gift it is.

Today is day one and the countdown has begun.

. . . . . .

_If fate holds a purpose, you feel fate will lend a hand. It saves face, deserts you. It deals grace from underhand. And every time the past's awakened, every time your soul starts breaking..._ The Tea Party - soulbreaking

_Day seven..._

**Edward's POV**

It's been a week since Seth's arrival. He comes and goes like a shadow, never lingering for long. His own private demons keep him tethered to Bella and he patrols the Denali woods like a sentinel in his wolf form. Her very own private guard. Free to range farther than I am, his constant vigilance is a comfort I hadn't expected to have or be appreciative of considering what he is.

He leaves the areas closest to the Lodge just long enough to give Alice a chance to see past the wall his presence creates, and stays just long enough to ensure that Bella is well.

Or as well as Bella can be expected to be.

In the great room a fire roars in the large fireplace and Bella, wrapped in her electric blanket, rests in my arms.

"Bella, this pie is incredible," Seth grunts around a mouthful. "Here," he says, rising from his place on the floor closest to the fire. "I saved you the last bite." He spears it with the clean fork he'd stashed in his pocket and holds it out to her. She obligingly takes it and though he'd said it was the last, he convinces her to take the next three bites as well. It's the most she's eaten all day and I watch him feed her gratefully, not unaware of the contrast between my feelings towards this kind of action from Seth and how I would have felt had it been Jacob in his place. As it had been a time or two more than I care to remember.

Seth has been good for Bella this last week. Drawing her from the place in her mind that seems to claim her more and more often and giving her someone to care for and look after, a reason not to give into the call of the mysterious corridor that is a visual manifestation of her power.

"_It's like a secret place I can't resist," she'd whispered to me just days ago when I'd seen her eyes go glassy and distant and not even the sound of my voice calling her name had garnered a response. "It calls me and everything just...disappears."_

_She'd lain so still on our bed, pale and in pain in the aftermath of that call that she seems to grow less and less able to fight._

"_Bella," I'd whispered fiercely, holding her to me as though I could absorb her pain and confusion and fear if I could just keep her close enough to me. "You don't have to suffer this." I'd chosen my words carefully; Alice's warning always loud in my head that this must be her choice and her choice alone. We had discussed that she need not wait on me the day after Seth's first arrival. That I was willing and ready to change her at her request. She'd nodded and seemed relieved, alerting me that mine and Emmett's suspicions in assuming she was trying to give me more time, had been correct. Correct, but not the full sum of the equation that was driving her. Something else was holding her back as well._

"_And if I said I was ready, right now?" Her eyes had searched mine intently, looking to the depths of me for honesty._

"_Then it would be now," I'd told her, swallowing the sudden rush of venom that filled my mouth in instinctual unwanted reaction. It was simply biological and no marker of thirst or need. Though I will happily treasure her immortality, the process to transform her is nothing I desire, only a necessary evil I will despise and regret for eternity._

_Her eyes had grown distant yet again, searching inside her mind for something I can be no part of. "Not yet," she'd whispered, small frown lines appearing on her forehead._

"_What are you waiting for, love, tell me, please! Help me understand." Desperation had made me reckless, made me force what I know I should not as she'd shivered in my arms despite the roaring fire, the electric blankets and the thermostat turned up high._

"_I can't explain it, Edward."_

"_Try!"_

_She ran her fingers that felt cold even to me across the forearm that I was holding tight across her waist, as though I could keep her with me by sheer, brute strength. _

"_The corridor is changing," she'd told me in a voice strained with fatigue. "I feel it all the time now, pulling on me. I can see the walls shifting, I can make them move. I know I have to be careful, and I am, I promise, but I know I'm getting more control over it. I feel like...I need to have more control over it, or..."_

_She'd shaken her head as though she could not find the words, or didn't want to say them._

"_Or what?" I hadn't been able to resist demanding._

"_Or I'll get lost inside of it and maybe never find my way out again." She'd said this last so quietly it had barely been a whisper and yet it had felt like a roar in my ears and my head. All I could do was hold her closer and bow my head to her hair to hide the fear I know would show on my face as she'd fallen asleep in my arms. _

_Later, I'd left her to seek out Alice and had found her waiting for me in Carlisle's study, standing in front of the window._

"_What do you see now?" I'd asked in no reference to the view._

"_It keeps changing. Back and forth. Some days she's fine, others..."_

_I'd closed my eyes striving for patience. "Alice, give me something, anything, please? What do you see, right now, in this moment?"_

_She'd turned away, the bleakness in her eyes hitting me like a proverbial slap in the face. _

"_Edward..." Her mind had raced, almost too fast for me to keep up with the images, but keep up I had. I saw it all. Bella perfect and whole and Bella cold and silent and still. I saw her bathed in her own blood and dying in my arms, and I saw her laughing and sparkling in the sunlight, her eyes golden and full of happiness. _

"_It won't stabilize. The minute I see one thing it's changed by another. Her mind is...changing, and I don't mean that as in she's changing her thoughts and decisions; I mean her mind is...changing. I've never encountered it before. She's becoming harder and harder to see, Edward. I'm sorry. All I know is what I've known since the day of your wedding. It has to be her choice. You can't rush her or push her, Edward. She has to decide. She has to say when."_

I focus back in on the present, but her unchanged warning rings in my head over and over again, swirling together with Bella's fear filled declaration.

"_I'm afraid I'll get lost inside and never find my way out again."_

Bella rests against me and drifts to sleep as Seth bids me a quiet good night. I hear him slip from the house, the sound of his transformation a snap of muscle and tissue followed by the sound of his wolf paws cracking the crust of ice that has formed over the newest snowfall. As his powerful strides carry him far from the Lodge and deep into the dusk-shadowed forest, his thoughts and presence fade away until it's as though he's been swallowed by the ground he runs upon.

The quiet vacuum his missing thoughts create leave only more room for my own that grow darker and more tortured as the days pass.

Is Bella trapped within her mind what Alice envisions when she sees her immortal and forever frozen and unreachable? A silent, sleeping beauty from some nightmarish fairytale that holds no happily ever after? Where no prince, dark or light, can wake her?

And what will I do if that is what happens?

Alice, in her room, freezes. Her head cocking to the side at a near violent angle is seen through Jasper's eyes as he rises from their bed to stand at her side and brace her. I hear her indrawn hiss of breath that comes with the assaulting force of new visions slamming into her mind. One after the other, born from my thoughts and the decisions I am trying to make and the possibilities they open.

_She sees me holding Bella in my arms. Her newly transformed vampire body is frozen and still, a perfect, unmoving sculpture. I'm lowering my lips to hers with a mouth full of blood that I try to feed to her, like a bird to its offspring. The liquid only barely seeps down her frozen throat that cannot swallow. The excess leaks from the corners and overflows down her cheeks and jaw to puddle uselessly in the hollow at the base of her neck, trickling in a red ribbon down between her breasts. _

I nearly roar with the white hot agony that lances my mind. Only Bella sleeping in my arms keeps me from tearing away...

Alice closes off her mind, the forced recital of Shakespearean anecdotes covering her tracks while she rushes to reassure me.

_It's only a possibility. Not a fact. It changes, over and over. There is still hope, Edward, don't give up..._

As if I could. Hope is all I have and I grasp it with all the tenacity of a drowning soul in a raging ocean who clings to the belief they'll be found before the next wave drags them under.

A new vision rears up in Alice's mind, engulfing us both before she can stop it.

_Bella, again still and silent in my arms as I carry her - _us_ - towards a roaring fire. Stepping inside while the flames surround us. Looking down upon her perfect face devoid of any awareness or emotion as the fire begins to burn us to ash..._

This time I cannot keep my body still and it jerks with the emotional pain such a possibility holds. Like a human waking from a nightmare my mind desperately tries to override that image and my movements waken Bella.

Alice fills my mind in rapid succession with other images. Ones of us together and happy in our immortality. A dozen lifetimes of moments that no matter how beautiful cannot take away the stark fear the previous images instill in me.

Only Bella's touch does that and her hand on my face as she looks at me drowsily anchors me back to this moment. She blinks and shakes her head.

"Always so afraid," she sighs, as she reads the look in my eyes I didn't have time to mask. "I'm not going to leave you, Edward. I promise."

I rest my forehead on hers and close my eyes to hide the terror I do not want her to bear. "Say it again," I whisper to her, but she only lifts her chin to press her mouth to mine.

I move until she is beneath me and cradle her close, the kiss turning need filled and hungry. I should stop, I tell myself. I should not put these demands on her body or tax her already failing strength, but I'm helpless when her trembling fingers find the buttons on my shirt and somehow undo each one without once faltering. Helpless as she arches against me and moans so sweetly, when the plush pad of her sex presses to the erection I no longer even try to control. Helpless when her warm skin is suddenly bare to mine when my hands move seemingly of their own volition to undress her, caress her, stroke her, love her, keep her...

"You're tired, love. You should sleep," I groan even as my fingers trail up her silken thigh and find her hot and swollen and wet for me.

"I'm not tired," she denies as her hand finds me cold and hard and slick for her. There is no fight in me and I am...helpless.

. . . . . .

_You won't say you're hurting. You still dream in the undertow. Just a safe place a haven. A kind face just to overthrow. Every time the past awakens. Every time your soul starts breaking.  
_The Tea Party, soulbreaking.

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

_Day eight… _

It's snowing. Fat, lazy snowflakes fall silently to the ground and I watch them through the bedroom window, enchanted. The trees and ground and everything in between are draped in endless layers of pristine white. I used to abhor white, until Alaska and its freezing winter world taught me the beauty of that colour that I'd failed to see before. It isn't empty; it isn't the colour of funerals. It's full of life and expectation. A blank canvas waiting to be painted with new and lush landscapes of future possibilities. It is rest and peace harbouring a new birth.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I ask Edward as he moves to join me.

*"I wouldn't use the word beautiful. Not with you standing here in comparison."* His lips press against my neck, his arms sliding around my waist. Before I can respond he turns me away from the window. "I have something for you," he says, gesturing to a white box sitting on the bed wrapped in a big, white, satin ribbon.

I sigh, but it isn't in me to be upset. I'm getting used to it I suppose. They may not all come wrapped in such lovely packages, but presents are forever popping up. The pretty new watch I'm wearing with the face that illuminates with the mere brush of my finger, the stack of DVD movies in our room that are all my favourites, the latest generation iPod Touch loaded with my favourite music. The beautiful Brazilian rosewood jewellery box with my name, Bella Masen, carved delicately on the back. Those and many more.

As if he senses my patience with his newest gift, Edward draws me to the bed and places it in my lap when I sit beside him. I play with the soft ribbon.

"Edward…" I may be getting more used to gifts, but there is still a side of me that finds it difficult to accept his desire to spoil me with material things. I don't need them, I only need him.

"Humour me," he whispers in my ear before I can object. The cool, soft touch of his breath washes over my skin and nerves making me shiver in pleasure. I turn, wanting to kiss him, but he's moved away so all I can do is sigh. We haven't made love in days, maybe even longer.

Time gets away from me so easily…

"Open it," he encourages, gently.

I pull the ribbon free and he lifts the lid for me, peeling back layers of white, satiny tissue paper to reveal even more white in creamy cashmere and fur.

Lifting it free, Edward stands and tugs me back to my feet, the now empty box sliding from my knees to the floor with a thump that's muffled by my surprised exclamation. He holds the coat open and I turn around to let him swaddle me inside of the sumptuous fabric. Turning me back to him again, he pulls the hood up to cradle my face and smiles, the light in his expression nearly mesmerizing.

"My snow princess," he says with a slight laugh. The smile fades and becomes a look that is somehow sad yet hopeful. "Alice saw you once, in a vision." Cool fingers stroke my cheek. "You were running in the snow, so beautiful, so perfect…" He swallows hard.

"Was I wearing this coat?" I ask, hearing what he isn't saying. That this vision was one of me after my change.

"No." His reply is followed with a slightly forced laugh, his fingers moving to my throat. "But when I saw it, I knew I wanted to see you in it. Outside, walking with me through the snow, like an enchanted creature born out of the most beautiful parts of the winter. Of Alaska." He closes the buttons and then takes my hand.

"Come outside with me; walk with me in the snow, love."

. . . . . .

_In the face of the fire, you see angels conspire. Will they hear your desires? Will they stop your soul breaking? Could I stop your soul breaking? Please, love.  
_The Tea Party, soulbreaking.

. . . . . .

_Day sixteen..._

Days are passing. I'm aware of them. Kind of.

I move down the halls in the quiet house without any real direction. Edward is with me. Somewhere. He's always with me, even when I can't see him. He needs to hunt but he doesn't leave. Or if he does he comes back so quickly I don't notice he's gone.

I try to pay closer attention. He needs to hunt but the thought, like all thoughts these days, is so hard to hang on to.

I think he's behind me, but my awareness is faulty right now. The corridor is changing. Under construction, I call it. Walls shift and blur and move, sometimes because I want them to, other times because they want to. It makes it hard to focus on other things when it happens.

Today is a good day. The walls only shift when I want them to.

I've also discovered that if I'm careful, I can lay my shield over just about anyone and they won't notice. Carlisle while he reads, Emmett as he plays chess with Jasper. Even Edward, though he's suspicious. I do it for only seconds. Anything more and I run the risk of them catching on. I also only do it when Seth is here. The mental block he puts up for Alice makes it impossible for her to see much of anything anyway. She never notices when I lay my shield over Rose or Esme, or even Jasper.

She notices when Seth isn't here though, and sometimes it gets away from me. Slips out like it has its own damn will. I feel her eyes on me in those moments, admonishing, warning, but she keeps my secret. I'm not really sure why. Either way the end result has been that I've slowly gained more control.

I also have a headache that feels like something is trying to eat its way out of my head, but I can deal with that. What I can't deal with is the way the corridor sometimes turns into a void, its length stretching out, the end a black hole of nothing that tempts me daily.

What would happen if I went there? If I stepped inside?

Sometimes when the headache is at its worst and my body is hot and so sore that my skin feels too tight, I can see that hole in my mind. Quiet, peaceful, cool. A place I can rest. A place where there would be no pain…

I try to get Edward to recreate that space for me in our room, though he doesn't know what the requested actions are meant to mimic.

I beg him to turn out the lights. To cover the windows in those rolling steel shutters, to bank the fire. I made him hang heavy fabric around the bed so that it encloses us when we lay there, the darkness so thick I can barely see him. He holds me and his cold skin burns pleasurably on the hot flushed skin that wraps me too tightly, and it helps. A little.

I terrify him in those moments. I know I do. I feel it in the way he holds me, the way his unnecessary breathing turns quick so that I can feel the cool pulses of it saturating my hair, cooling the hot pain in my head through my scalp. I want to tell him I'm sorry, but I need quiet and even the sound of my voice at a whisper rages like a scream in my overly sensitive ears.

Instead, in desperation, I put my hand over his mouth to silently plead for quiet to the point he even stops breathing for me. I tighten my arms around him to urge him to stillness and he obligingly becomes a statue. An impenetrable, protective wall buffering me against the onslaught of pain.

I never know how long it lasts. I try to remember to tell him I'm sorry later, when the lights come back and the worst of the pain has slunk away like a hungry beast to its corner, but it's hard.

Thoughts are so hard to hang on to these days.

. . . . . .

_As we run from the sun, and we leave things undone. As we cover our eyes. Does it tear you apart, my love? Cause it tears me apart...  
_The Tea Party, Correspondences

. . . . . .

_Day twenty-one... _

The pain is bad today. Nothing helps. Not the pills Carlisle encourages me to swallow, not the rich-scented smoke Edward helps me breathe. Nothing.

I stare out the window in the great room, watching the snow blow and pile up against the panes of glass. The weather is a tempest, as unsettled as I am. Edward's fingers brush through my hair as I lay against him, my back to his chest.

"You know what I haven't had in ages?" I ask him, feeling the throb and pulse of my heart echo in the throb and pulse of pain in my head.

"What?" His voice is pitched low, a soft hum that doesn't incite the pain to a new level.

"Mint chocolate chip ice-cream."

Seth makes an_ ack_ sound from his place on the floor where he lays on his back in front of the fireplace. His arms are up and folded beneath him to pillow his head, his legs crossed at the ankle as he stares at the ceiling. "That stuff is gross," he comments lazily. "Who puts mint in ice-cream? That stuff is for toothpaste and mouthwash, not ice-cream." His voice is also pitched low, but it's not as melodious as Edward's. The sharper, gruffer edges catch on the latest wave of pain and heighten it. I let my shield slip out and wrap it around Seth to blanket and muffle the sound of his voice. A new trick done simply by envisioning the shield as a dome of glass. The pain in my head eases with the release of the pressure I've used to keep the shield restrained, though the rebound effect nearly makes me flinch when I draw it back.

"Would you like me to get you some?" Edward asks, ignoring Seth's continued diatribe on all the reasons mint should never be in a dessert.

Shifting my weight, drawn to the sound of his voice, I turn my face up to his. He's so handsome, beautiful really. His dark eyes watch me as I run my fingers over his jaw line and then up along his bottom lip. I want to kiss him, touch him, be with him.

One last time.

The pain in my head fades with the heat I feel growing under my skin. The throb of the headache being overridden by the throb that settles sweet and heavy and rhythmic between my legs.

"Get some what?" I ask, watching the way my finger glides over his cool, solid mouth. He kisses my finger, something I can't quite catch flashing in his eyes at my question.

"Ice-cream, love. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Ice-cream?" I frown, confused. "Why would I want ice-cream?" I shake my head at him, amused. He's always trying to get me to eat. I let my fingers fall from his mouth to his throat and place a kiss against the stone-like knob of his Adam's apple. "I do want you though," I tell him, reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

Seth's surprised cough heralds his quick rise to his feet. "And that would be my cue to leave," he laughs, his ears flushing red.

I feel heat suffuse my own face. "Sorry, Seth," I whisper, slightly mortified. I'd forgotten he was there.

He laughs again, stretching his arms over his head until I swear I can hear his joints popping. "Jeez, Bella. What a thing to apologize for. When I imprint, you can bet I won't be apologizing for that kind of thing." With a wink he leaves the room, long powerful legs making short work of the distance.

Edward chuckles and presses a kiss to my hot forehead, but the sound isn't as amused sounding as I think he wants it to be. It sounds forced and once again I look at him, taking in his near black eyes and the heavy purple shadows beneath them. I should tell him to hunt. Instead I turn so that I can straddle his lap, dig my fingers into the cool strands of his hair and kiss him.

His response is hesitant, careful. Not at all what I want. I reach for the buttons of his shirt again, but he stills my movements with his hands.

"Bella..."

"I want you," I tell him. "It's been...awhile, hasn't it?"

He lifts one hand to touch my face and then brush my hair back. His expression is tender, sad. "A little while. You haven't felt well enough, love. Your strength is low."

"It's not low today." Not the truth, not a lie.

It doesn't matter anyway. I've been conserving energy, holding on to it to keep me going, to get through one more day, then one more. I don't need to do that anymore.

Not that he knows that.

The walls in the corridor shift and I let them. Wanting Edward and only Edward, I let my shield fall over him, over us.

"I want you," I tell him again, pressing a kiss to each of his eyes to close them, moving down to his mouth. "Please?" I breathe against his lips. "I want your hands on me, Edward. I need you."

He groans and I can feel the need in him, too. "Bella," he sighs and pulls back. "I want you," he groans. "I always want you, but you're not strong enough for this right now..."

"Yes, I am," I argue. Tugging the last button on his shirt free, I slide my hands over his chest making him groan again, an expression of near pain crossing his features. "I know you want me," I tell him gloatingly, shifting my body over his lap until I'm rubbing against his erection.

He cups my face looking suddenly fierce, almost angry. "I always want you, Bella. Always. Wanting you and not being able to have you is as close to physical torture as I can get. But I will not compromise your health by giving in to my selfish desires."

"They aren't selfish if I want it too."

His expression softens, but I can see his resolve does not. Leaning forward I kiss him. A simple meeting of mouths with no intent to seduce. He's stressed enough and though I want him, ache for him, I won't push. Slipping easily from his lose hold, I pretend my body doesn't hurt with each step I take.

"I'm going to take a shower," I tell him with a smile, thinking for a moment to ask him to join me, then just as quickly deciding not to. He watches me leave the room and his eyes on my back feel just as intense as I know they look.

. . . . . .

_Charmed by this light. This sombre guidance in her eyes. Rage would entice, and final moments would arise, leading me down. Does it tear you apart, my love?  
_The Tea Party, Correspondences

_. . . . . ._

**Edward's POV**

_Day twenty-one continued..._

I follow her, telling myself I just need to make sure she's okay. That she shouldn't be alone. All manner of lies that occupy my thoughts and keep me from admitting the truth. I want her. Desperately.

If she asks me again, I will cave.

I listen to her shower, pacing the room like the caged animal I have become. It's been too long since I've touched her, really touched her. I haven't hunted in days. The combination is potentially lethal.

I hear the shower turn off and the sound of the towel caressing her skin, absorbing the water droplets from her satiny flesh, making me nearly insane with need. I think to leave the room, my self-control is faltering, but the thought is born too late.

Bella walks out in a cloud of steam saturated with her scent. Wearing nothing but that thirsty, lucky, damnable towel that barely covers her.

She doesn't notice me at first, lurking as I am in the shadows of the farthest corner. Then her nostrils flare and her head turns at the exact same time that she lets the towel fall to the floor at her feet.

Perhaps she'd noticed me after all.

My eyes rake her body, head to toe and back again.

She's pale and frail and all too thin.

She's satin and silk and too beautiful to bear.

She crosses the room, her eyes on mine as stops in front of me and raises one hand to my face. I see it then, that look that has crossed her eyes several times today. A new resolve, a new strength mingles with the shimmer of a tear that escapes, only to cling to her lashes, quivering and jewel-like.

"Bella." The air in my lungs leaves in a rush as I reach for her, pull her close. The need is too strong. I cannot contain it. I don't want to contain it. I lift her to me and swallow her little gasp with a greed filled kiss. The tear finally falls then and I taste it in my mouth. Salt sweet and bitter with her sadness.

I cannot stand to see her sad.

Without thinking, I tell her to wrap her legs around me then turn us until her back presses against the wall. Her eyes open slowly when I freeze, realizing what I've done, worried about the memories such an action will evoke. She regards me evenly, no trace of fear, only her desire. We'd done this once before, in a shower in Carlisle's office, our pain so fresh it had nearly torn us apart.

Could she bear it now? Now when the exposed rawness of that former moment isn't there to buffer her memories?

Her eyes stay clear, stay locked on mine. The separation between the violence of the assault and the love she and I make together is now too great a distance for those memories to bridge. Jacob is well and truly banished.

With one hand behind her back to protect her from the wall, I watch her closely as my other hand slips between us to the heated juncture of her thighs, testing her arousal. She's already tugging my zipper down, freeing me, guiding me. In one instant rush and push we join and her breathless cry is sweetened by the notes of pleasure that assure me she feels nothing even close to pain or fear.

"I love you." Tender words emitted with a harsh growl. My body moves, stroking within her, watching heat fill her eyes until they glaze, until her pupils contract and the chocolate colour burns with flames.

She never closes them. Not even when the full onslaught of her climax makes her shudder around me. Not even when I groan and empty myself with a hard thrust that buries me so deeply within her she cannot help but feel each pulse of my release.

"I love you," I tell her again, softer this time. The meaning matching the tone.

The flames leave her eyes slowly, the shimmer of new tears dousing them.

"I'm tired," she whispers. "I'm so tired."

My heart breaks and I curse myself. I start to turn, to take her to the bed but she tightens around me, arms and legs and inner muscles clamping me to stillness.

"Let me lay you down, love," I plead. "You can sleep for awhile. As long as you like..."

She shakes her head and once again that new resolve flares in her expression.

"What, love? What do you want?" I brush the sweat dampened hair at her temples, bereft to understand how to help her as her tears come faster now.

"Take me away from this, Edward. I'm tired. It's enough." She says the words so softly while her hands curl into fists in my hair. I freeze as the pieces fall together for me and she repeats the words I feel like I've waited a thousand life times to hear.

"Make me yours, Edward. Make me yours, forever."

. . . . . .

_Does it tear you apart, my love? _

_Cause it tears me apart._

_You're tearing me apart..._

. . . . . .

* * *

A/N End lyrics – The Tea Party, Correspondences. * - Line from Breaking Dawn, by Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended. Youtube links to the music featured in this chapter can be found on my profile page. As a point of interest, this entire story began in my mind while listening to The Tea Party song, Soulbreaking and both it and the song Correspondences have been played on near constant repeat through the writing process.

Also. Just a quick reminder to help you connect the pieces, the section of this chapter where Edward gives Bella the white coat isn't random. It's been a long time, but in chapter 38, The Layers Beneath the Layers, Bella had developed a strong abhorrence for the colour white. This is actually a very common reaction in victims of sexual violence who see white as a symbol of purity, something they may feel was taken from them. I wanted that scene in this chapter to show just how far Bella has come that she no longer sees the colour as something negative and that Alaska, time, and Edward have healed her. In a perfect world where updates were quick and close together, I probably wouldn't have needed to explain that.

I'm on twitter! (Aleeab4u) Come follow me. I'm still just getting the hang of things but if I get a few more followers, and a few more people to follow in turn, I'll be using it to keep everyone up to date on progress and updates.

Take a second if you have time or the inclination to visit my profile page for the summary of my new Darkward story that I'm very excited about, Prey for the Wicked. I plan to begin posting mid to late Feb if all goes according to plan.


	54. Chapter 54

**A/N Dear, Readers. Many of you have expressed fear for this moment, and here we finally are.  
**

**It's time.**

**Reach out**

**Take my hand**

**Don't let go**

**I won't let go**

**Breathe in...**

**

* * *

**

From Chapter 53, Transcendence

_"Take me away from this, Edward. I'm tired. It's enough." She says the words so softly while her hands curl into fists in my hair. I freeze as the pieces fall together for me and she repeats the words I feel like I've waited a thousand life times to hear._

_"Make me yours, Edward. Make me yours, forever."_

* * *

**Chapter 54**

**Love Me, Follow Me, Find Me...**

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

I shouldn't hesitate, but I do. I've already waited so long...

My hands nearly falter as I steady her once again against the wall. Her legs are still wrapped around my waist, our bodies still intimately connected and the heat of her keeps me hard and wanting. Her thighs tremble and it's an automatic response for me to stroke my hands comfortingly over the tense muscles while my hips surge gently into hers.

Bella's head falls back on a moan, baring her throat to me. I can see the pulsing of her carotid artery throb more quickly. Fear? Desire?

Both?

"Bella, love, tell me you're sure." I can barely force the words from my mouth. Venom is already pooling, coating my teeth. "Look at me!"

Her hands are cold and they shake as she braces them on my chest, though her eyes are clear. Using the leverage to push her upper body towards the wall and her lower body more tightly to mine, she moans slightly. Capturing her hands, I tug them over her head and anchor them to the wall.

"I'm sure, Edward." Her eyes glisten with fresh tears, emotion making her throat tight so the words rasp from her vocal chords. The action of her swallowing past tight tissues, flex the muscles, tendons and flesh enticingly, and I'm nearly drowning in venom. My vision sharpens, instinct already beginning to drive me and ignite senses I reserve for hunting. My lips fall to her throat, caressing, kissing...

Snapping my head back up, I find her mouth instead and kiss her until she whimpers, her hips curling further into me. She's shivering.

"I love you," I chant against her mouth. "I love you, so much." A near guttural sob accompanies my words and for the first time I'm aware of the silence in the house. The hushed quiet as everyone holds their collective breath. Slowly the house empties till only Emmett, Alice, and Carlisle remain.

Emmett for muscle, in case I fail.

Alice for sight, in case a vision should change our course.

Carlisle for strength and knowledge, in case something goes wrong.

_God, don't let anything go wrong._

"You are my life. Stay strong. Stay with me." I can't help but move inside of her. Her heart beat quickens and I feel the electricity racing over her skin, snapping between us. She pants against my lips, her fingers curling over mine, hard.

This isn't how I would have imagined this moment, if I'd ever had the nerve to imagine it. Not like this; taking something as sacred as the act of sex with her and tainting it with what I'm about to do, what she is about to endure. That kind of agony has no place of association with the pleasure we've been able to find in the act of joining our bodies. Pleasure we've found against all odds, physical and mental.

I try to pull away.

I would have, _should_ have hunted and gorged myself to a level of satiety just short of bursting at the proverbial seams. To take her after nearly two weeks since my last feed is insanity. The tempting of a devil I have no sure control of without the buffer of a stomach full of blood.

Resting my forehead on hers when she tightens her legs around me to keep us locked and joined, I drag her scent into my throat and let the burning pleasure of it ignite in my throat. That I am about to once again taste her pure, undiluted flavour is only a small facet of the things running through my mind at this moment, but it _is_ a facet and that terrifies me.

Bella is trembling harder now and I realize I'm still moving inside of her, thrusting into her heat mercilessly. I can't tell if her trembling is passion or fear or pain. Perhaps all of the above. The monster whispers that I could take her now, however I want, the venom will repair any damage…

"Please," she whimpers.

"Not like this," I try to reason, my voice as pleading as hers as I battle the beast back to his corner. Never will I harm her, never. "Let me lay you down, bathe you. You can rest, catch your breath and then we'll…" My mind scrambles in on itself, trying to plan out what I should have planned long ago.

"No, exactly like this." Her mouth finds mine and she kisses me with a small strangled sob. "I want to be as close to you as possible. Exactly like this, just you, just me. Love me, take me; don't let me go. Make me yours, Edward. Just…keep me."

There is nothing left to say, or do, I realize, and using my speed I carry her to the bed, lay her down and cover her without losing my place inside of her. Like a bookmark sheathed so tightly between the favourite pages of a treasured book. One that holds all the secrets to happiness and peace in a life eternal.

Her hands fist in my hair as I cradle her face, bearing my weight on my forearms. I cannot help but surge inside of her again. A flex of hips, a glide of hard skin against, and within, soft skin. A fluid, smooth thrust and withdraw and repeat that takes us both deeper into pleasure, despite what I am about to do. Or perhaps, _because,_ of what I am about to do. There is desperation in her sudden sharp response, in the hissed moan I swallow in a kiss all too daring.

"Like this then," I concede, despite the dangers. I trace her lips with my thumb and lower my head to her arched breasts, coaxing her nipples to hard peaks with the tip of my tongue and the suckle of my lips. "Like this," I repeat, taking a hold of her hips and bottom, lifting her to me so each impalement is deeper, stronger. Stroking her in places where pleasure is made and born to the sounds of her soft cries and my name panted in tones of need and heat.

"Come for me, love," I urge as her body quickens in inevitable response. "Let me give you pleasure. Let me give you something to hold onto in the dark. Remember this. Remember us." Her climax begins to peak and it occurs to me as the pleasure in my own body reaches a metaphorical boiling point, that this is the last time I will know her this way. The last time I will cradle her fragile form to me and know by her heartbeat and scent and the pure physiology of a human, female body that I've loved her well. The tenderness that swamps me, that makes me treasure every delicious response of her body in this moment, negates the burning thirst and desire to come myself as I open my mouth over her throat.

"I love you," she whispers so sweetly as the final wave of orgasm recedes and she stills in my arms, holding me close.

"And I you. Always. Forever."

"Forever..."

Like a razor through warm butter my teeth slice into her without anymore hesitation. Her taste blooms in my mouth, a flavour of incomprehensible notes and power and delicacy. I allow myself one swallow. No more. Her hiss of pain is unacceptable and though my thirst is a monster raging at me to keep drinking, I somehow find the will to move. To bite her wrist, the delicate skin at her inner elbows, the throbbing pulse in her thigh and at her ankle and then back to her neck.

Bella's body arches off the bed in silent agony. I'm enough of a monster that the lick I place against the still bleeding wound on her throat to seal it fills my mouth with her essence, a thousand times more potent than any aphrodisiac. The pleasure of it explodes through me and I climax against her writhing stomach.

A part of me, the monster inside, will relish this moment, this incomprehensible pleasure. I am what I am. Another, the part that loves her with all the power of a mortal man, will hate it for eternity.

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

The second Edward bites, the pain is undeniable.

Oh yes. I remember this.

James and the ballet studio. Fire burning through my veins, up from my hand.

This is worse.

It's everywhere at once. No slow, fiery path, just a blazing conflagration and I'm pathetically enlightened and humbled.

That I ever thought I could withstand this...

Like acid; my blood must be bubbling like acid. Eating its way upwards from my dissolving veins, seeping past subcutaneous fat and tissue, boring through and eating holes in the layers of flesh to ooze from my pores and sear my skin.

Oh, God. I can't breathe for the pain. I can't.

Hands are on me. Cool, but not soothing. There is no ease from this. I'm aware of Edward. I feel him moving over me. More eruptions of pain and fire. The sting of his teeth is almost pleasant in comparison.

I think he says my name but my inner ears are whooshing with the roar of the fire eating me from the inside out.

I can't scream, but I want to. Oh, how I want to.

I'd thought to be strong when I'd thought of this; to be brave and not torture Edward with my agony. I could do that, surely. Suffer in silence.

I'm a fool.

No one could bear this. No one. Silent, still, stoic Bella is a fairytale creature that could only exist in the pages of a made-up story.

I find air and I scream because this is no fairytale. This is real and it's the hell of my nightmares multiplied a thousand times over.

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

Bella writhes, her screams muted by her clenched teeth and inability to breathe properly. I've given her enough of my venom that there is no lag in the beginning of her transformation. It has begun, and it has begun in earnest.

Have I given her too much?

Her heartbeat stutters, races, slows, then races again, as though desperately trying to find a rhythm to maintain life.

Tearing the sheet, I clean off the evidence of my loss of control from her skin and dress her in my discarded shirt. Bruises begin to form wherever I touch her.

Jesus Christ.

"Carlisle!"

"It's the venom, Edward. Not you." He's already there, inspecting the already healing places I've bitten as I yank on jeans, not even bothering to do up the button. I pull Bella back to my arms buts she twists away, her limbs stiff, her back arching until I hear the joints in her spine pop in protest.

"Give her morphine! Now!" I snarl, noticing there is none in his hand.

"It won't help, Edward." Alice's voice is soft and sad, drifting in from the doorway. "You know it won't."

I do know. It hadn't helped her in the ballet studio with James' venom coursing through her, it won't help now. The weakness that had made me cling to some stupid hope that it would infuriates me, almost as much as the helplessness. The things I've told myself to sugarcoat the outcome of what I would need to do to keep her with me forever, are all now being stripped away in the face of reality.

Bella contorts again, more violently this time, trying to curl into herself. She's no longer trying to scream, only panting, wheezing. Tears stream non-stop from her tightly clenched eyes.

"It'll be over soon, love. Soon," I lie, trying to gently brush her hair from her face. It sticks to her skin, glued by perspiration that evaporates as quickly as it comes to the surface.

Alice's visions flicker in and out like a badly tuned radio signal. Images that refuse to collaborate into a solid, understandable scene.

Then there is nothing. No vision, no thoughts from her or Carlisle, no sound in my mind at all. I feel Bella's shield slam down around me, a web of impenetrable netting that unlike other times, doesn't feel like the silk of a spider's web. It almost seems to physically bind me with its strength. I have never felt her shield this way.

Bella arches again, her eyes opening, finding mine, her hands clenching, grasping at my arms.

"I'm here, love. I'm right here." I don't know if she sees me. Her legs scissor against the sheets.

"It's too much," she cries, still through clenched teeth. Her nails snap against my skin, jagged edges tearing into her fingertips, blood showing up in streaks on my arms.

I wish it were mine and not hers. Her blood scent fills the room as I capture her hands and lick the bleeding little crescents to heal them, adding more venom. Again, I try to hold her, and again she twists away.

The immediate danger that I might lose control has passed. Alice is gone, so is Emmett. Carlisle stands at the window, his back to us, hands jammed deeply into his pockets, back rigid as we both listen helplessly to her sobs. I cannot hear his mind.

"She's bleeding, Carlisle." Trickles of it seep from her nose, her ears. My worst fears coming to life.

Is this the beginnings of the massive cerebral haemorrhage Alice foresaw in her former visions?

Grasping her chin, I yank her face upwards to mine, no longer nearly as gentle as I should be. "Don't you do this," I snarl at her, beg at her. "Don't you fucking do this to me, Isabella Marie Masen. Do you hear me? Don't you do this! Stay with me. Don't shield."

"It hurts so mu... much," she stammers.

I press my forehead to hers, breathing into her face, desperately trying to ease her in any way I can. "I know. Just hold on. Just for now. It'll be over soon and then it will just be you and me, the way we've always wanted. Please, Bella, please. Don't leave me."

Her heart stutters again and all I can smell is her blood. There is no pleasure in the fragrance.

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

Edward's agony finally transcends my own, reaches in and reminds me that I am not alone in this. That my every scream, slices him to the quick. I can't do this to him and with everything in me, every ounce of willpower I possess, I try to reign it all in.

I can do this. For him, for us. This is what I wanted...

Fire races hotter and faster down my body... I'm burning alive...

I can bear this. I can...

The corridor opens; the walls morphing, faster than ever before. The shape changes, twisting serpentine-like as doors open and close randomly. The red carpet beneath my feet smokes, tiny flames rising and twining around my feet and ankles, licking mercilessly at my skin...

I need to protect him. He cannot see what I feel through Alice's mind, or Carlisle's thoughts, or the memories of Emmett, Jasper, Esme, Rose. I need to blanket him and I need to control my reactions. I can do that. I won't torture him... I won't...

He kisses my fingers, licks them. I don't know why. Cold meets hot, ignites more flames like fuel to the driest of tinder.

Nausea rolls through me as I find his door and seal it shut, wrap the walls around it so he's safe inside.

As safe as I can make him.

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

Bella gags and Carlisle and I support her while her body purges the little food she's consumed today. So many things I did not tell her about this process. This ugly, vile process that will remake her into something infinitely stronger will first destroy every function of her human body.

Sweat rolls from her skin and her eyes find mine, again. Still here, still with me. God, please, keep her with me.

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

Time doesn't have any meaning. Not when you are burning at the stake forever. Scenes change, though.

Carlisle is there, and then he isn't. Edward holds me, bathes me, wraps me in blankets when the fire turns to ice that burns no less for the shudders I cannot control. He frees me when the heat rises like a phoenix to scorch me.

Light of day.

Dark of night.

I don't scream anymore. I don't beg anymore.

There is no point.

There is no end.

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

Nearly twenty-four hours and still her heart beats. She's quiet now, no longer begging or pleading or screaming, but she is not still. Her body writhes against mine when she can stand me holding her, against the soaked sheets when she cannot.

The sweating stops.

There is nothing left to sweat out.

I change the sheets beneath her, trying desperately to be so careful. To offer her some kind of comfort, futile as it is.

I pray she doesn't notice the final purging of her body as I bathe her as tender as a parent would a child. Praying, pleading, begging her in a soft voice for her to stay with me. Hold onto me...

I change the sheets again.

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

There is no end. I will burn forever.

Why did I believe in a fairytale?

In the corridor the flames bite into the walls, lick the ceiling and the floors.

The void at the end beckons me. Cool darkness, relief, escape...

"Stay with me, Bella."

My mind is shattering...

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

She no longer sees me. I can tell. The pain has reached the blistering point where nothing else can exist outside of it. Not even me. Not even us.

She's so still now. Only the shield she has not lifted and the weakly pattering, slightly sporadic heartbeat tells me that she is alive.

I pray for her death.

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

This is hell. It has to be. Only pain. It's all I know. The fire, the flames...How can there be anything left of me to burn?

Hotter, harder. It's everywhere now, even in my mind.

I was holding onto something... What?

Oh, God. Let me die. Please, just let me die...

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

"How much longer?"

"I don't know, son. A day, maybe. Your venom is strong. She's progressing fast."

"Not fast enough."

"Is she still shielding you?"

"Yes."

"It's miraculous she can still keep it enabled. The strength, it's phenomenal. Fascinating. I can't imagine what this will mean for her when this is complete. What she'll be capable of. I've never known or heard anything like this, Edward."

I glare at him.

He's instantly contrite as I bow my body back around her.

She's so tiny, so frail.

"Stay with me, my love. Stay."

Behind her tightly closed eyelids, her eyes move back and forth as though she's dreaming.

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

Shadows cross Edward's face in fascinating patterns. Night must be coming. My vision has gone red. He kisses my face, sipping at my skin and I wonder if my eyes are bleeding. If so the liquid must be boiling. I think I hear it sizzling on my frying skin...

I can't hold onto him. He flickers away and I forget...everything.

I'm alone.

I'm completely alone. Pain is a demon that owns me...

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

Pale pink blood tears streak down Bella's face. They taste like my venom, her sweetness nearly vanquished. She sees me for a moment, but she's gone again before I can tell her she is my life.

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

It's worse. How can it be worse? What exists outside of this?

I envision myself as a body upon a funeral pyre. Burning, consumed entirely by flame until there is no discernible form beneath the writhing fire. Smoke rising higher and higher, carrying away all that I was.

All that I am.

All that I could have been.

The void opens again. The corridor nearly completely consumed. I race ahead of the seeking fire. Down the corridor, past the doors that erupt in whooshing flames at my wake. It licks at my heels and I run faster.

I have to escape.

I have to...

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

"Stay with me..."

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

"Find me..."

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

"Find me."

One second of lucidity. Her eyes burn up at me. Clear, awake and present.

"Find me."

It is a plea and I know instantly that her mind is offering her escape. I see Alice's prior visions like a movie reel, playing back to me in stunning clarity.

Bella frozen. Changed, but not awake. Lost, but not gone.

"Stay," I roar vehemently. I clutch her closer, though I know the futility of what I ask. I cannot hold her past this point. I'd known that from the moment Alice had shown me that vision, though I'd refused to admit it. One more lie I'd told myself. One more illusion I'd clung to.

A normal mind fractures under this much pain. Mine had, Carlisle's had, Esme, Emmett. It is the kind of pain that drives people insane; that sends them into the deepest parts of their subconscious to escape it. On the other side, there is no lasting mental effect beyond the brutal memory we all carry. But Bella's mind is not normal and her subconscious combined with her power is creating a place to hide that she cannot refuse. The pain is too much and her mind is too strong. It's taking her away. Sucking her into a place she can find surcease.

I feel her slip away. As though she's taking her last breath when in fact her chest continues to rise and fall, the venom not having yet completed its annihilating job.

"Listen to me, love." The words are whispered directly into her ear. For her. For only her. "I will find you. I swear it."

Her mouth is cool, her body no longer using its last few resources to provide heat as I kiss her. Only the most basic of functions happen now.

A heartbeat.

Air. In and out of lungs.

Lingering major organ function.

"I will find you."

I pray it's a promise I can keep.

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

Stepping into the void away from the flames is like stepping into a cool lake on a hot summer day.

Delicious.

Darkness enfolds me. Cradles me in silence.

I can rest here. I can wait here...

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

Her heart stops at hour 70. Just two hours short of the three day process. The extra venom I'd injected may have done nothing more than increase her pain.

It's too late for recriminations. It may be too late for everything.

Bella doesn't open her eyes.

. . . . . .

I let Esme, Alice and Rose, bathe her, though I refuse to leave the room, or to hunt. I won't hunt until I can take her with me.

When they're done, I turn back to the bed and the vision is stunning. Bella has always been beautiful. Even her human flaws had entranced me. Now she is something so much more. Alice, for once, has dressed her in a manner I know Bella would appreciate. A simple soft, long, ivory coloured sweater and black leggings. Her delicate feet are bare.

Gone are all traces of her prolonged illness and struggles. Porcelain skin is refined, smoothed and utterly luminescent. Her body is curved in delicate shapes. Not different, simply fuller. Defined curves no longer hollowed out by the severe weight loss that has vanished, softening her body once more.

Although soft is a relative term now. To me she is soft. Indestructible yes, but not hard as my skin would have felt to her as a human.

I wonder what she will think of me now. How will I feel to her without the biting chill of a cold, hard, marble-like countenance? Will she miss the coolness that had eased her memories of Jacob Black and all his suffocating heat? Will she miss my strength that will no longer best her own?

"Go take a shower, Edward," Esme instructs me softly as Alice brushes Bella's hair. It's longer. Dark mahogany, glistening with highlights and beauty, curling around her face and spilling down her neck and shoulders, nearly to her waist.

It's only then I realize how much time has passed. I can smell Bella's sweat and blood clinging to my skin. Underneath it, I can still smell the sweet musk of sex from our frenzied coupling. The memory is bittersweet.

Will I please her now? In her new body will she feel me the same? Want me the same?

"Can you see her?" I ask Alice.

"No." She doesn't lift her head, continuing to brush Bella's hair, her touch as loving and gentle as any she'd placed upon her when Bella had been frail and human.

"Can you feel her?" I ask Rose.

"No." From her place perched on the edge of the bed, Rose holds Bella's hand, sliding her wedding and engagement rings back in place.

I should have done that.

The silence without her heartbeat is interminably loud. How long, I wonder, before I stop listening for that sound.

I still hear nothing; see nothing from the minds around me. Wherever she is, Bella continues to shield me. The once confining feeling of being surrounded by the web of her power no longer chafes. It soothes.

The silence is a balm. A gift she seems to have bestowed on me. I could not bear the pain and worry of others. As Esme, Alice and Rose leave the room, it seems as though we are alone, she and I, this way.

. . . . . .

Seth sits beside the bed. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, long legs splayed negligently. There is mud on the cuffs of his pants. It flakes and falls to the carpet when he shifts restlessly. The fire Bella no longer needs for warmth crackles in the hearth as I stab the logs with the iron poker.

"How long can she stay this way?"

It is only with effort that I find the will to answer patiently, rather than snarl at him to leave. I prefer the silence of us, alone.

"Indefinitely."

"She won't...starve?"

"She will. She is. But it cannot kill her."

"She can't eat anything, drink, whatever? Not even water?"

"No. Her body only needs and can process blood."

"An IV thing? You could hook her right up. Like a blood trans..."

My patience snaps a little. "Her skin is impenetrable." I don't bother to tell him that Carlisle is trying to find an alternative, even considering trying to make a hypodermic syringe from a sliver of vampire tooth. I've already scraped several from my own to aid him in his experiment. Foolish hope and wishes. Even if he can make a syringe, it's unlikely her veins could carry the blood without a heartbeat to act as a pump.

Desperation has made us all a little insane.

I don't discourage him, if for no other reason than my own need to ease her pain. She must be in agony, I think. The thirst, the need to feed, a pain all too akin to the fires that had burned her and chased her away from me. I should know. The pain of my own raging thirst however, would be nothing to that of a newborn.

Perhaps she feels nothing. I pray she feels nothing. Surely she feels nothing. Was that not the point of her escape in the first place?

_Find me._

I'd promised her I would, but I have no idea how...

He's quiet for a long time. If not for his stink, I might have been able to fool myself into believing we were alone again. His mind at least is mercifully silent to me.

"Is she hurting, do you think? I mean is she, can she, feel...anything? Should we move her? Won't her back get sore staying like that? I mean...does she...is there...?" He frowns, stumbling over his words, his silent mind no help to me in figuring out what he wants to convey. He reaches out as though to touch her and my involuntary growl is loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Seth draws back with a hard sigh. Rising to his feet, he glares at me. "I would never hurt her, Edward. You know that!" His words are born on his own growl.

I do and it grounds me, makes me contrite so that I turn away back to the fire, find words to comfort him because I know he cares for her.

"We do not feel discomfort at being still or in one place for a long time. She can lie like that for eternity and feel no pain. She mentally ran from the agony of the transformation. I can only believe that she has found a place within her mind where she feels nothing."

I hear his fingers rake through his hair. "Is it like she's sleeping, do you think?"

I have no answer to that, but something about his tone makes me turn and regard him carefully. "I don't know. What are you thinking?"

"Nothing." His answer is too quick, his eyes darting away evasively. Before I can quiz him, he spins on his heel and heads for the door. "I need to piss," he informs me, apparently not bothered by etiquette. "But I'll be back later." He stops once more. "Speaking of, you don't have her in those awful adult diapers or anything, do you? Cause that'll embarrass the hell out of her when she wakes up, you know."

He says the words 'when she wakes up' like there is no doubt she will. I pray he's right. God, let him be right.

"Vampires don't urinate or defecate," I reply absentmindedly, my mind in many different places, searching; only always searching for a way to reach her.

"Really?" His laugh rumbles around the room. "Damn. I could make a fortune suing the author of that kid's book. You know, Everyone Poops?" He laughs again, the sound rumbling out into the hallway and beyond this time.

Moving to the bed, I lift Bella gently and cradle her in my arms, putting my back to the headboard, her head beneath my chin.

She still smells like Bella. Sunshine and freesia and meadow grass. All the pleasure with none of the pain.

Why had I waited so long? I should have changed her the first time she asked. A lifetime ago…

"Come back to me, love. Please, just come back to me..."

. . . . . .

It's been a week and still she doesn't wake. She doesn't breathe. Though I know she has no biological need to do so, the lack of it bothers me immensely. I've gotten used to her silent heart, but not this.

Carlisle's syringe fails. He thinks he needs more tooth.

Esme and Alice shake their heads. Rose curls her lip. Emmett looks at me, no doubt envisioning how best to give Carlisle what he wants. Jasper watches me. I cannot feel his gift but the way that everyone in the room relaxes, tells me he's experimenting. Looking for a way around Bella's shield, which despite everything, is still just as strong. Though I seem to be the only one she's shielding, she must also be shielding herself. Alice cannot see us and neither Jasper or Rose can sense us. I have not read a single thought from any mind but my own.

Not even those of Tanya, Irina and Eleazar when they showed up to abate their curiosity. Our extended family of like-minded, vegetarian vampires were beyond curious.

My hospitality skills were sadly lacking. They did not stay long.

Although Carlisle and Eleazar did have a conversation, against my wishes. It was no stretch for a vampire of Eleazor's talent to identify Bella as a shield, and a strong one. It was his gift after all to discern the talents of others, latent or engaged. Nor was his theory that Bella's ability had allowed her to create a place in her mind surrounded by her own shield. A place that kept her imprisoned even as it had allowed her to escape the pain of her transformation.

His conclusion that Bella was a lost cause, however, infuriated me and very nearly created a war between our coven and his, extended family be damned.

"_I've never seen anything like this exactly," he'd told Carlisle indifferently as he'd leaned arrogantly against a bookcase, flicking animal remains out from under his fingernails from a kill he'd made on route. "But shield powers are notoriously tricky. The strength of the power I can feel emanating from this one is stronger than any I've ever felt before. If she's entombed herself somehow, not something I even thought was possible by the way, then it's unlikely anything can save her now. Really Carlisle. You're best to just put her and him out of their misery by ending her sooner rather than later. A pity," he'd continued, unaware that my rage was rising with every word I overheard from my place beside Bella in our room. "A shield of this kind of power, well, let's just say she would have made a formidable vampire. Perhaps the strongest of her kind. Damn near invincible, really. I would have loved to have tested her and her limits..."_

He hadn't been able to continue his musings after that. Not without first picking chunks of plaster from his teeth and throat after I'd driven him head first through an interior, and then an exterior, wall.

Jasper had been able to calm Eleazar's reaction to my attack as I'd launched myself at him and destroyed half of Carlisle's study. The induced emotion lasted just long enough that Tanya and Irina were able to remove him while Emmett and Rose slammed me to one of the remaining upright walls, pinning me there until they were out of easy reach.

Later Carlisle tried to calm me by telling me Eleazar meant well. I'd bared my teeth with a sneer.

"_I know you haven't forgotten he was once a member of the Volturi guard, Carlisle. You should not have even let him in this house. It was his job to find vampires like Bella and you know as well as I do how interested Aro will be in Bella's abilities."_

"_Eleazar left that life long ago, Edward. He has no desire to return and no loyalty to either Aro or the position he once held. He can be trusted."_

"_For all our sakes, I hope you're right, Carlisle."_

"_I am, son."_

"_He made no mention of any gift beyond her shield, did you notice that?" I'd asked, my mind spinning with the possibilities as to why that would be. "It's as though he could not detect her enabling ability at all."_

"_Yes, I did notice."_

"_What does that mean?"_

"_I'm not sure. I guess only time will tell."_

_My gaze turned from Bella to him and I studied him closely, looking for signs I have not had to rely on since my human life time to deduce the direction of his thoughts. "Then you believe she will...wake up from this?"_

_He was quiet for so long, I'd almost given up on him answering when he finally replied. "I have to believe that after all she has been through. All you both have been through, that there is light at the end of this tunnel, Edward." He reached out and tenderly stroked Bella's hair, his expression showing the pain and helplessness he felt. "If not," he said so quietly I don't even think he was speaking to me, "I might very well question my faith for the first time in my centuries of existence." His hand fell away and he'd left the room, leaving Bella and I, once again, alone._

Holding Bella now, I wonder about faith. She'd given it back to me when I was certain my very existence negated the idea of it. Her life had been my salvation, her love the proof I'd searched for that someone such as I could still have a soul, that I was not damned.

I've extinguished that life now. If I was ever to be damned, now would be the time.

My body curls around and over hers, pulling her close as I kiss her eyes, her cheeks, the tender unresponsive heart shaped bow of her lips.

"If I have a soul, take it," I whisper fiercely to the unseen deities that rule the fates. "Just let her live."

. . . . . .

"Edward, you should hunt."

"No, Esme."

"You need to be strong for her. When she opens her eyes, she'll need you strong."

"When she opens her eyes, we'll hunt together. Not until."

. . . . . . .

"Do you see nothing, still?"

"It's as though she doesn't...exist."

I hiss at Alice, nearly coming off the bed. If I wasn't holding Bella, perhaps I might have so strong is my rage. "She exists!"

"I'm sorry, Edward. I know that. I only meant..."

"Get out!"

"Edward..."

"GET OUT!"

The windows rattle and tiny hairline cracks appear in the glass of the picture frames on the mantle above the fireplace at my bellow.

Alice flinches. If I was looking I would have seen the pain in her eyes, the fear, the sadness.

I'm not looking. I brush my fingers through Bella's hair and go back to telling her about Paris at night. The way the moonlight hits the River Seine at midnight, the decadent collection of impressionist art at the Musee d'Orsay after hours when only a carefully greased palm can open doors for viewing without the crush of tourists. The pure peace of strolling through the Cimetiare du Pere-Lachaise just before dawn when a thin mist lies lightly on the ground and dew drops sparkle on the headstones.

"We'll see all of that and so much more, love. Just wake for me now, please, Bella. Please...

. . . . . .

"We have to consider approaching Aro, Edward. It's been two weeks. They have vast records, dating back thousands of years. Somewhere within those archives there may be an answer, or even some bit of information that might prove useful. Caius is very knowledgeable about the changing process, perhaps he..."

I press my head back against the headboard as Carlisle's words become a drone like the buzzing of annoying bees on an otherwise peaceful afternoon. I hear the sound of wood splinter under the pressure. The action feels oddly strange, alerting me to the fact it's the first time I've moved in hours, days possibly.

"No. Not yet. She simply needs more time."

I go back to humming her lullaby and trailing my fingers gently up and down her arm.

. . . . . .

"Do you know where Seth is, Edward?"

I glare at Emmett.

"No, and I don't care. Get out."

"He hasn't been around at all. He left but didn't say where he was going. Rose is kind of attached to the kid and she's worried."

"I told you, I don't know."

"Look, Eddy. You need to move, get up. Let's go hunt. Who knows, maybe we'll find him and Rose will stop bitching. Bella will be all right for a bit. Let Esme sit with her. She's upset, pacing because you won't let anyone in."

"No."

"Christ, Edward. You need to pull it together. You're losing it, man."

I take my eyes off Bella for one second. Just long enough to level a glare at him that has him taking a step back away from me, nervously.

"Get out," I snarl. "Now! Or I will break every one of your limbs off. Slowly. One. By. Fucking. One."

. . . . . .

They've left us alone. Days have gone by with no one venturing past the doorway. It's been nearly three weeks. I lay in the bed with Bella and time passes. I read to her from memory. The words from Wuthering Heights fill the silence.

When the story is done, I fall silent.

Bella's heart no longer beats. That's okay, neither does mine.

She no longer breathes. I close my mouth and cease the habitual action myself, just as I had done for her when the pain of her headaches had become unbearable.

I place my arms around her and freeze that way, the action also familiar, as though she and I had been practicing for this exact moment. Perhaps we had been. I become a statue, just as she seems to be.

I close my eyes.

The darkness is soothing.

She doesn't move.

That's okay. Neither do I.

. . . . . .

"Edward."

"Edward, man, hey."

"Edward? Jesus...What's wrong with him?"

"What do you think is wrong with him? He hasn't moved in days, you're wasting your time. He isn't going to talk to you, Seth. He won't talk to anyone."

"Yeah, well he needs to talk to me, okay Rose? So, just back up for a second."

"It's your funeral. Just so you know; he's likely to bite first, ask questions later."

"Whatever. Close the door when you leave."

The sound of a chair scraping briefly over the floor than landing with a thud on the area rug by the bed is easier to ignore than the insistent voice. Unfortunately the voice returns, grating against nerves that are all too accustomed to the silence I feel is my only commiseration with Bella.

"Edward, I know you can hear me. I know you don't want to, but I know you can, so just open up your eyes and hear me out."

"If you value your life," I warn, the words nearly rough with the desecrated feel of my vocal chords. "Then you will leave this room, right now."

"Nope, not leaving. So you might as well listen."

I'm up off the bed and his neck is in my hands before I realize I've moved. I lift him off the chair and toss him towards the door. He lands on his feet like a cat and growls at me, the sound guttural. His muscles twitch, then spasm, but he inhales raggedly and calms quickly.

"Damn it, Edward. I think I have a way to help her. Do you want to hear it, or not?"

I catch the scent then. It fills my lungs with the watered down scent of a werewolf who never phased and my mind with astonishment at Seth's audacity. "You're not alone."

From the hallway comes the sound of wheels moving over carpet and a second later Billy Black enters the room.

He stops a few feet from me and his hands move from the wheels to his lap where they rest with his fingers curled upwards in seeming supplication. His gaze travels from me to Bella on the bed and then he closes them momentarily, a flash of pain crossing his face. "No," he says quietly. "He isn't alone." His eyes open again and he looks at me, his expression unreadable. "I've come to try and help. If you'll let me."

. . . . . .

Seth stands in front of the large window, one strong forearm braced on the glass as he stares out at the night.

I stand beside the bed, watching Bella as Billy Black moves to the other side and looks down at her. My hands clench and unclench at my side, every instinct in me disliking his close proximity, even as something hopeful builds in my chest.

"This isn't like true sleep, Billy," Carlisle says from his place at the end of the bed. His tone is cautionary, yet I can see the hope flaring in his eyes as well. Eyes that are dark.

A glance around the room at everyone gathered there reveals more of the same. Their eyes are all nearly black. Apparently hunting is on no one's agenda. I feel a tug of remorse as I watch Esme tenderly caress Bella's hand. In my pain I've forgotten them and theirs. In my selfish need to keep her close, I've denied them the comfort of sitting with her, touching her.

I feel as though I've just wakened from a fugue state.

Terrified to allow myself to hope for anything, I glare at Billy. "Vampires do not sleep. She's caught somewhere in her own mind. She's no longer human. You're shaman powers can't reach her."

He glances up at me then back down at her. His brow furrows and I notice for the first time how frail and unwell he looks. Scenting the air around him, I smell it as well. The smell of heartbreak and age and growing infirmity.

Without turning Seth grunts, speaking when Billy does not. His reflection in the glass is pensive. "I don't see how it's any different."

"He's a dream walker. Vampires don't dream. She isn't dreaming."

Billy reaches out as though to touch her but he stops, his eyes flicking up to me quickly.

"May I?" he asks, carefully.

"No." The word is a growl, low and violent. He pulls back slowly, as though he's afraid any quick movements might incite me further.

"Let him try, Edward." Alice speaks softly from behind me and I spin to face her.

"Have you seen something?" The desperation in my question makes my voice waver.

Her eyes drop to the floor, her shoulders curling in defensively. "No. Nothing. I just..."

"For crying out loud, Edward," Seth snarls, finally turning from the window. His expression is full of irritation. "Let him try. What the hell is there to lose?"

I feel unsteady. Lost. I look at Carlisle, seeking a voice of reason in my insanity. I don't feel at all stable, or capable of this choice. I don't trust Billy Black.

Carlisle nods, a brief drop of his head. I don't need to read his mind to know his thoughts. He agrees with Seth. There is nothing to lose.

Turning back to Billy, I level him with a stare that is full of my distrust and the residuals of anger I still feel over his actions and the actions of his son. "Do you honestly think you can find her? Tell me the truth; I'll know if you're lying, Shaman."

He runs a trembling hand over his gaunt face wearily. "I can walk in the dreams of humans and werewolves alike. I know she isn't truly asleep, but it's the subconscious mind that creates dreams. That part of her is still intact. If I can find my way to hers, then maybe, just maybe," he cautions adamantly, "I can find her."

"You have to get past her shield," Jasper reminds us all. "Her mind may not let you in."

Billy nods. "I know this. She's blocked me from her mind before and she's very strong." He looks back at me. "I believe I can find a way around the walls she erects, but I will need your help, Edward. I need you to work with me."

"Why should I trust you?" I take a menacing step closer to the bed. One small leap and I could clear it and be at his throat.

Billy shows no fear of me, his expression calm and yet sad. His eyes fall to Bella again. "Because I still have much to atone for," he says softly. "And because no matter how much you hate me, you know, deep down you know, I am not my son. I would never harm her."

I watch him, wishing for the first time that Bella's shield was off so I could see into his mind. "How can I work with you?"

Billy reaches out again for Bella's hand. When he looks at me this time, I nod my permission though the sight of him touching her triggers a protective growl I can't easily suppress. He holds her hand in his gently, watching her closely while I strangle back the sound and the urge to tear him away from her.

"I will try to find my way into her mind. Into whatever illusion she has created to safeguard herself. But you are the only one who can truly reach her. When I find her, it will be your voice, your command that will bring her back."

I watch him for a long moment, searching his face, his mannerisms, his eyes. I realize he may well be our only hope. "Very well, Shaman. I will trust you," I tell him. "Tell me what you need."

Pushing his chair away from the bed, Billy sucks air deeply into his lungs and nods. "We do it now."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Seth blocks him from moving any farther. "You're exhausted from the trip and the flight. You should rest first."

Billy shakes his head. "No, we do it now. While the moon is at its highest and I can draw strength from it." He turns back to me.

"We need to take her outside."

. . . . . .

The sky is clear and the moon is indeed high in the dark night sky. Billy has had Jasper and Emmett create a circle of fire. The flicker of the flames rising high in the air, burn with the colours of orange and copper. They melt the snow, creating rivulets that reflect the red in the flames, like blood.

In the center Bella lies on a pallet covered by a silver fox fur blanket. Against the silver and beneath the moonlight, she's ethereal.

Billy has been silent. So still one might almost think he was like her. Frozen, suspended.

My nerves twitch at the distance between us. The flames are hot on my skin and face as I watch her through the rippling curtain of fire with only the finest amount of restraint left to keep me in my place.

Billy's lips begin to move. Silently at first then with increasing volume. A sing song chant. The language as old as time itself, long since forgotten, holds little meaning for me.

Seth moves from his place behind Billy and begins to scatter the plants he'd gathered from Bella's greenhouse into the flames. The damp, fresh flesh of the torn leaves and hastily crushed flowers snap and sizzle in the fire. They fill the smoke with the scents of juniper and bayberry, witch hazel and dozens of others, until the air is heavy and redolent of the past.

Another circle of fire dances in my mind, so easily remembered that my ire rises with the smoke and the distance between she and I is not one I can withstand for much longer.

Billy's chanting grows louder. His voice carries on the smoke and seems to swirl with the wind. Around the fire, Emmett, Alice, Rose, Jasper, Esme and Carlisle stand with me. Silent and watchful, their presence gives me strength.

Billy stops chanting. The abrupt silence has a weight and substance that presses down around me. He lifts his head and his eyes finding mine unerringly.

"You walked through the fire for her once, vampire. Will you do it again?"

I shed my shirt and there is no hesitation in the steps that carry me through the wall of flames. The razor sharp lick of them blisters my skin, but I barely notice.

Reaching down, I lift Bella into my arms, keeping the fur beneath her so that it drapes over my arms. Though rationally I know she no longer needs protection from the elements or from my cold skin, the action is ingrained. I kneel on the rougher pallet of utilitarian blankets and cradle her to me.

"She is the light to your dark," Billy says softly. "She's lost, but you can find her, Edward Cullen. Think of her, only of her. Listen to the sound of my voice. Hear my words. See what I see."

The wind gusts, dragging itself through the fire and breathing on me with the heat its absorbed, and Billy's voice changes yet again. A new chant. Rhythmic, like the pounding of drums, the pulsing of a heartbeat. Like the scented air and the heat, it falls around me with its own weight. Hypnotic and lulling, so much so that even when he falls silent again, I can still hear the echo of it in my mind. It throbs through my body, an odd resonance felt deep within.

"I see a hallway. Long and winding. A corridor with many doors." Billy's voice matches the resonance within and I breathe out and in to the beat of it.

The corridor. Bella's mind, the mental imagery of her shield. I see it with him. Exactly how he describes it.

"The walls are burnt; the carpet beneath my feet is nearly ash. So much destruction," he breathes sadly. "Doors. Many, many doors."

"Go deeper, Dream Walker," I tell him, instinctively knowing that the destruction he sees is a sure sign that she is not there.

"There is no end."

"Go deeper."

"Ah, a trick. An illusion. Clever girl." Billy sounds almost amused. "She has walls around everything. Layers of them." He falls silent again and in my mind I see him navigating a maze.

"Find her," I whisper. "Go deeper."

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

There is no light, no sound. I exist only on the most basic level. I do not know who I am, or what I am. There is no sense of self. I simply am.

Floating. That's what this is like. Like floating in warm, dark water...

There is something niggling at me. Something pressing.

I don't know what it is.

_Find me..._

I hear the echo of a plea. Smell the stench of bitter smoke and ash from a fire that has burned itself out.

The sound of footsteps ring in the void.

I smell fresh smoke...

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

"The corridor ends here. Nothing but black space."

In my mind I see what Billy describes. He walks carefully towards a void where the corridor seems to disappear; the confines of his broken body do not bind him here. He searches for something tangible in that void and finds nothing. No walls, no doors, just seemingly endless nothing.

"Clever, clever girl," he muses, smiling. His eyes close in the vision in my mind and he raises his hands to the black space, as though feeling for something. "Call her, vampire. Call her to you, now."

Opening my eyes I let go of the vision of him in the corridor and look down at Bella in my arms. Lowering my head to hers, I kiss her mouth softly, breathe my breath into her face.

"Bella, come back to me," I whisper. "Come back to me, now, love."

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

I hear the voice. It comes from far away...

_Come back to me..._

Something brushes me. Warmth, light. I feel myself lifted and rising...

"There you are, little one." The laugh is warm, familiar. I feel the scattered pieces coalesce back into one form.

Me.

Someone kisses my brow. "It's all right now. Open your eyes, little dreamer. He's waiting for you. Go to him."

_Edward..._

_. . . . . .  
_

**Edward's POV**

It starts as a thrum of electricity. It hums and sparks beneath my fingertips where they touch her, hold her, cradle her. Bleeding through the fur and arcing into my body. I don't breathe as I draw back to look down at her face.

Bella opens her eyes.

* * *

**A/N Breathe out...**

**Told you I wouldn't let go. ;-)  
**

**xo  
**


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N With only an epilogue to follow, this is the last official chapter of Falling Beyond Redemption. To say the least, this was bittersweet to write. I have taken some strong cues here from Breaking Dawn and I think that's fitting. When I decided to write this story, I wanted to take things in different direction, but I never wanted to lose the voices of the characters we all love or the amazing elements Stephenie Meyer created for us in her series. This chapter is me bowing down to her and taking things I loved of Breaking Dawn and blending them into my own humble vision.**

**I hope with all my heart that it doesn't disappoint.**

**As usual I am flying solo and this chapter has not been beta'd. Please forgive any errors you find.  
**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 55

**Rebirth  
**

**Bella's POV**

Edward holds my hand as we run. The feeling is exhilarating and I am caught up in the euphoria of the moment. The rush of air passing over me, the way my vision stays aligned with all the things we pass so that nothing blurs as it had when Edward had run with me prior to my change.

My feet fly gracefully over all types of terrain. The slippery snow and ice, the rougher bite of rocks and dirt where the snow has melted on the hills.

Around trees without pause, ducking beneath branches without a single one touching us. Clumsy Bella has vanished without a trace.

I'd laugh if I wasn't so nervous.

This is my first hunt. My first time outside of the Lodge and the safety of the walls. It's overwhelming. The scents of the forest and the world bombard me. The visual things I'd had no ability to comprehend before keep dragging my concentration away, time and again.

The way the leafless branches of a tree have bark laid in patterns so fascinating they could be studied for hours. The way the weak, winter sunlight hits the snow, creating prisms of light that resemble Edward's skin.

My skin.

A gentle tug on my arm alerts me to the fact that we've stopped. Edward smiles gently at me, patient as always. His hand touches my throat, concern touching his features when I swallow with a wince.

"Can you smell that?" He asks.

I drag air tentatively in through my nose, trying to sort through all the different smells. Earth, damp and icy. The rot of leaves and plant matter beneath the snow. The rush of cold air carrying dozens of smells I'm not entirely sure I know. Finally, something warm and lush with a hint of bitter muskiness makes itself known.

"That?" I whisper questioningly, searching around us. My throat burns and my mouth fills with something sweet. Venom. I'm still not used to that.

"Does it make you thirsty?"

"I'm already thirsty," I hedge.

He smiles. "Listen, Bella. Close your eyes. Trust your nose, your ears."

I do as he asks and I hear it then. The wet, meaty sound of hearts beating. More than one. It takes a minute, but I soon discern where it comes from and turn instinctively in that direction.

"That's it," Edward encourages. His hand that still holds mine squeezes briefly and then let's go. "Trust your instincts now. Follow them."

Without opening my eyes, I follow those sounds, the smells. My feet are cautious though I know they don't need to be. I turn back to Edward, looking for reassurance. He nods.

"Trust yourself, love. I'm right here. Let your instincts rule you."

I turn back and begin to run. I find them. Four deer that raise their heads at my appearance, ears flicking warily. I'm downwind and if I wasn't, I'm sure they would have long since run for deeper cover.

Stopping, I watch. The fire in my throat is so painful now. I can smell and hear the rush of blood racing warmly, sweetly, through their veins, but I cannot move. I'm paralyzed by their eyes. Large and warm, full of life.

Will I snuff out that life? Can I do this?

Edward approaches from my right, cautious and silent. The deer's ears flicker again and I can see their muscles coiling in sudden rigidity. They are a hairs breadth from bolting and still I am frozen in my indecision.

Want wars with need, which in turn wars with reason, stifling the instinct Edward has been trying all day to encourage me to embrace.

"I can't," I whisper at him. If I could cry, I would. I'm so thirsty, but there is so much of me that is still human-like. Since coming back from the void in my mind, I've embraced so many facets of this new life. The super strength I've had to work at to have control over so I don't break everything I touch. The sights and sounds that are like a visual feast for senses I never knew were possible. Even my shield and all its endless complexities feels like something new and magical, where before it had felt crippling. Not that I've learned to control it, yet. It's such a tricky, slippery thing...

"Focus, love."

I snap back to the deer and my thirst roars anew. And still I'm helpless.

I turn to Edward and the sudden movement breaks the tension that had held the deer still. They break and bolt, and we watch them vanish in a flurry of up-kicked snow and swaying, bending brush.

I could chase them but I don't.

"I'm sorry." I close my eyes and press my face to Edward's chest. His arms go around me and he chuckles softly against my hair, the vibration touching places in my body it shouldn't. It's only been five days since I 'woke up' for lack of a better term. I'm still a newborn. I shouldn't want him. I should only want blood. That's the deal, the story they've all told, the sacrifice I was willing to make temporarily for eternity with him. And yet as much as the thirst pains me, I'd endure it for days longer if I could lay down right here in the snow with Edward and explore this new version of him.

He's warmer to me now. Not hot, not cold, just a perfect complement to my own temperature. His skin still feels hard but no longer frozen. Instead it feels like rich, burnished wood. Smooth, polished. If I press hard I can feel a certain give. A new texture. I have to be careful. The shoe is on the other foot now with my strength greater than his, and I won't deny I'm excited by that and the possibilities.

Edward won't have to be so restrained with me...

"Don't be sorry, Bella. Just help me understand. What's holding you back? You are thirsty, yes?"

I nod against his chest. My first few moments of 'waking up' are a blur. Sensory overload, confusion, they'd all been a factor. Edward, Carlisle and Emmett pinning me down and feeding me blood from an IV bag hadn't helped, and that drink, and the others that followed in these last few days, would explain why Edward might wonder if perhaps I'm just not _that_ thirsty.

My thoughts skip back to those moments. After I'd drained the contents, I'd assimilated enough to be terrified I'd just been fed human blood. Edward had been quick to reassure me that wasn't the case. It had been pure animal blood, the species of which I've never asked but I had learned Carlisle, during my time frozen and locked in my own head, had been the one to collect it. He'd been searching for ways to feed me, even in that locked down state. He'd also realized that three weeks of starvation for a newborn would not exactly make for a sedate, relaxed moment of awakening.

He'd been right. Apparently I'd been more than happy to embrace instinct then, nearly tearing off Edward's arm to try and get at Billy Black. Possibly even Seth. Starvation makes a vampire less picky apparently. While Billy's blood is more human in scent than Seth's by far, it still holds traces of the werewolf gene making it less palatable and appealing to most of our kind. Or so Edward has explained. I haven't been able to test that theory. Jasper and Seth had whisked Billy away before I could be any real danger to him and he's returned home now. Thank God.

It would have been a sickening thing to have killed the person who saved me from myself.

Edward once again draws me back to the present by stepping back and taking my hand again.

"Perhaps something more...appealing," he muses out loud, turning to the west and then the east, dragging air through his nose deeply and exhaling out his mouth. "Ah, there you are." He grins at me, tugging gently at my hand and drawing me towards this new direction. I try to smell what he smells but all I catch is the lingering musk of the meal I let escape and the snow, the wet earth, balsam, a rodent of some kind burrowed deep in a den under a winter blanket.

We begin to run again at Edward's urging and I let him lead, my mind falling backwards once again to those first few hours of my new life...

"_Would you like more, love?" Edward takes the cup from my hand and it's all I can do not to growl, not to snatch it back. It's empty, nothing more than a few clinging drops left on the sides, but it's mine._

_I nod, feeling the strange sensation of emotion similar to being embarrassed swamp me while my face stays cool and free from the heat of a blush. He's gone and back again in seconds, handing me back the cup. Its contents swish thickly inside, dark and heavenly and I want nothing more than to guzzle it down. Instead, I force myself to sit, to hold the cup and deny the screaming instinct in me to devour and slurp and then to race from the Lodge and find the real thing, warm and fresh and lush from a human host. The thought sickens me, thrills me. Learning first hand all that I could be capable of is different than hearing it._

_I look up and find everyone gathered, watching me like a bug under a microscope. Emmett stands near the doorway, Jasper by the only window. Rose and Alice flank them while Carlisle and Esme sit with practiced nonchalance on the loveseat across the room. My exits are blocked. Not that they need to be. Edward has remained close to me; so close I wouldn't be able to take a step towards either without him being capable of snatching me up and preventing any getaway I might contemplate. _

_The feeling of restraint prickles, irritates. I feel a shift in my mind and for the first time since waking up, I feel the presence of my shield. _

"_Am I still shielding you?" I ask Edward, using all my strength to resist the blood in the cup I hold. Animal blood. I've not had any human blood but my body is well aware of the difference now that I'm out of that hideous, monstrous haze I had been in when I first opened my eyes in that ring of fire. I want the real thing, like starving and imagining steak and being given nothing but lettuce leaves instead. It doesn't matter that I've never eaten steak, I know well the difference._

"_Yes."_

_I frown and try to find the door to Edward's room in the corridor. I think I have it, but it slips away. The corridor is murky, insubstantial now. More fluid and amorphous and I don't understand yet how to control it in its new state. There are no doors._

"_Can you see the corridor?" Carlisle leans forward, too keen on understanding me now to keep up his pretence at being relaxed and unworried. His curiosity burns out of his eyes and his demeanour. The feeling of being a bug under a microscope grows._

"_It's...different. I don't know." My tone is sharp, one step away from being rude. Carlisle doesn't react, just nods._

"_I'd take it off if I could," I tell Edward, curbing my irritation._

"_I know, Bella. Don't even try now, love." He smiles and kisses the top of my head. "I'm enjoying the peace and quiet," he pseudo whispers, knowing full well that everyone can hear him, attempting humour to lighten the oppressive mood._

_Everyone is just so...watchful. Waiting for me to freak out, to become the monster they've all assured me I would be. Newborn. Out of control._

_I don't feel anything like what they've told me I would feel, aside from the thirst. They were right about that._

_Wanting at least an illusion of space, I get up and turn towards the window, the cup still clutched tight in my hand. Jasper tenses and takes a step as though to block me, his expression uncertain and frustrated. I'm too calm, too controlled for his liking. I heard him tell Edward that in those exact words after I'd regained control of myself in the doused, smoking circle outside. Billy and Seth being whisked away should have triggered more instinct. The prey escaping should make the predator enraged and give chase. Instead, I'd come back to myself, realized what I was doing and allowed Emmett, Carlisle and Edward to pin me to the ground. Even though I'd sensed I could break their hold if I wanted to. _

_I feel a low growl begin in my throat. Something else new, this ability to growl in a way that sounds threatening instead of stupid. I'm not sure if I'm protecting the contents of the cup from Jasper, or just annoyed that he's trying to pen me in and keep me from the window. _

_The growl makes Jasper move faster and he blocks me completely, standing in front of the window, arms coming up to block me further. _

_Jasper would never hurt me. I know this. Know it deep inside the very core of my being. But let's face it. I'm not truly rational, not yet. My irritation turns to full anger and the penned in feeling grows._

_It happens before I can stop it. The corridor solidifies. Different. No doors, just smooth, nearly transparent walls. I push the outer one out from my mind. I think my intent is to block him from getting closer. The result is much more violent. The force of that wall being pushed outward from my mind slams into Jasper and sends him physically backwards, off his feet and through the very same window I'd been trying to get to. Like the day of my wedding my shield is a force, not mental, but physical. Invisible, but just as substantial as a real wall. _

_Jasper rises out of the snow, shakes it and glass out of his hair. Beside me I feel Edward move closer, tentative. I pull the wall back towards me. It's like thick, unbreakable glass. I can see through it and when I reach out my hand, I swear I can almost feel it. The corridor narrows again, drawn back to its place in my mind without much effort from me. It took more effort to expel it than it did to draw it back. The walls solidify; grow more opaque and less translucent. A corridor again._

_The effort has cost me something. I feel weak, almost drained._

"_Jasper, I'm so sorry," I tell him as Edward's arms come around my waist. Not in restraint, but support._

"_He's fine, Bella, he's fine." Edward rocks me slightly._

"_No harm no foul, Bella," Jasper assures me as well, stepping back through the broken window tentatively. His expression is confused and uncertain, but he smiles at me and holds out his arms again, only this time in demonstration of his well being and not in an attempt to restrain me. "See? All in one piece, nothing to worry about."_

"_Holy shit!" Emmett exclaims, laughing a little as he examines the window and then Jasper. "Did you see that? Man, it looked like you got hit with a wrecking ball. Jesus."_

"_Shut up, Emmett." Rose snipes and smacks his arm. Emmett scowls a little, looking suddenly like a chastised kid as he rubs the place her hand had hit. _

"_Babe, I'm just saying that was awe..."_

"_I'm sorry," I cry out again, ignoring Emmett and shaking my head. "Jasper, I didn't mean to. You just, you came at me. I only wanted to look out the window for a minute. It was instinctual. I was feeling claustrophobic; you stopped me and I just reacted."_

"_Jasper, did you sense Bella was trying to run? Is that why you blocked her?" Carlisle asks._

"_No." Jasper drags his hand through his hair dislodging more clumps of snow and small slivers of glass that make a sound like rain falling when they hit the floor. Cold arctic air whistles past the remaining glass that clings to the edges of the window and it takes me a second to remember why I'm not shivering or feeling cold. So strange this new body..." I sensed she was feeling uncomfortable, and as she said, claustrophobic. I wasn't sure what she would do with those feelings, how she would react. I thought it best to air on the side of caution and not allow her too close to the window."_

_Carlisle regards the window thoughtfully. "Perhaps it would be better to ask her what she plans to do next time." There is a touch of something like amusement in his tone. "Rather than block her path." _

_Emmett is the first of course to chuckle, but then Jasper's lips begin to curl up at the edges as he dislodges a chunk of glass from his collar, Alice's soft musical laugh tinkles over the rougher baritone of Emmett, and then everyone is laughing. Even me when Esme scoots forward and begins to clean out Jasper's shirt pocket of more clumps of snow. _

_The laughter from all of us, Edward included, is a little uncertain, yet as I press my face to his chest and inhale his scent to ground myself, I feel better, more hopeful. Regardless of what happens now, I'm home. I'm where I belong. I'm who I am supposed to be. I let go of Edward just long enough to put the cup of blood on a table. I've had enough for now._

I allow the present that I've still been aware of with one part of my mind to be my sole focus. Edward has stopped again and is staring at me expectantly.

This time I smell it without encouragement or guidance. Something richer, more tantalizing than deer.

"Mountain lion," he clarifies. "The carnivore's blood is more appealing, usually," he remarks, watching me closely.

He's right. The scent is stronger, richer. More salt and heat than musk and tang like the deer. Venom floods my mouth copiously this time, and still I hesitate. The smell is thick in my nose. I want it, desperately. Turning to Edward, I shake my head.

"Show me!" I sound desperate, feel desperate. "Show me what to do." The thirst claws at me but I'm hopelessly lost in between the two worlds. The human who could never harm a living creature and the vampire that could easily kill anything with a pulse. The girl who couldn't even stand the sight and smell of her own blood, never mind others. The monster that thirsts for it so badly she'd kill the person who saved her to sate it.

_Who am I?_

Edward cocks his head, his expression uncertain even as he tracks the animal's movements. I can't see it, but oh, I can smell it, and still my feet stay rooted to the ground as though the ice beneath me has entrenched them.

Will he show me? Let me see that side of him that he's hidden completely? Not just the monster, but the pure predator?

I see his own needs and wants war with our past, our history. The need to protect and the need to teach.

The need to teach wins, perhaps because in order to protect me, he must teach me to do this. Or maybe because deep down, he's always wanted to share this with me. Something akin to excitement, only so much more feral and wild, enters his eyes.

"Follow me," he orders roughly. "Watch me."

With one last squeeze of my hand he's gone. I can track him easily now, though I know he's moving with vampire speed. I follow close, but not too close, and watch as he leaps a wide ravine and tears into a small clearing.

The prey is there. His scent punches me in the throat long before I see him with my eyes. The visual and the olfactory combine and if Edward was not in front of me, I feel like for the first time today, I could and would have attempted to take it down. Instead, I slow and stop. Thirst and instinct take a back seat to fascination as I watch Edward take down the large cat.

There is no fight. No contest. In one smooth move the cat spins to face his adversary but Edward is already on him. He's something so much more than graceful, his movements sure and heartbreakingly fluid and violent.

One arm around the great body. One lift, one pull, one twist of the upper torso to draw this gorgeous, ferocious animal to his mouth. The snarling hiss from the cat and Edward's mouth falls almost delicately to its throat.

I hear it. The sound of his teeth sinking deeply past fur and flesh and muscle and sinew. The lush sound of blood, gushing upwards. The deep, rhythmic, almost erotic sound of sucking.

One more twist of Edward's powerful arms, the muscles bunching and cording beneath the bared skin of his forearms - a crack - and then silence as the cat falls limp.

When Edward lifts his head a moment later, his lips are red and slick, like they've been painted crimson. My body aches. Thirst and fire in my throat, tension and something like heat in my core, spreading all over.

Lust.

I want his meal.

I want him.

I growl. I'm moving without thought.

I'm there in front of him, my own lips slick with venom as I lick them.

Edward smiles, something dark and primal crossing his face.

He lays the cat at my feet. Its heart is still beating but its eyes are peaceful, staring out at the forest, accepting its fate. Edward has put it out of its suffering by snapping the place in its spine that controls movement and feeling. The heart beat is growing weaker.

"Drink," he tells me. His voice sounds deeper with a rasp that I know all too well from every sexual encounter we've had. I'm not the only one starving.

Instinct finally wins and I kneel beside the cat and take what I need. Drink and drink past the moment its heart falls silent and the blood rapidly begins to cool. When there is nothing left, I let my head fall on its shoulder. Its warmth is fading from its body but lingering in my mouth.

I can feel strength growing. So much different than the cool blood in a sippy cup that has been my diet for days.

I feel powerful. I feel thirsty still, but not as much. I feel sad that I've killed. I feel happy that I've killed.

I feel alive, and most of all, I feel need.

Edward's hand strokes my hair. The touch is gentle, but not what I want.

"It's the way of things, always. Predator and prey," he soothes. "One life for another, stronger against weaker. It isn't pretty, but... better this, than a human, Bella. Think of that, okay?"

I hear it then. What I maybe hadn't listened to all day. His fear that I won't accept this, or him. That I would find this monstrous despite the need I have that matches his own.

Lifting my head, I scrutinize him. His uncertainty and worry isn't the only thing I see or notice.

He wants me and he's barely controlling it. I can see it. I can smell it. I can taste it. His desire hits all my senses and without thinking I reach for him. Pressing my lips to his, I can taste the blood and it makes me want him more. I stop thinking about wrong or right. Let go of who I used to be and everything she used to think and feel, and just embrace _this_.

I've wanted this for so long. I won't waste one more minute holding onto a past humanity I'd almost forgotten how much I'd long to shed.

This, now, him, us. It's all I want. All I ever wanted or needed.

"More," I growl against his kiss. "Help me find more. I'm still thirsty. I want to learn. Teach me."

"Yes, always."

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

She is formidable. Enthralling.

_Mine._

I allow myself to embrace the ferocity of that word in all its primal male meaning.

My wife, yes. My love and heart and soul, undoubtedly. Yet on a baser level, she is more.

She is my mate and I am teaching her to feed.

I watch her stalk her prey. Now that she's let go of whatever was holding her back, she has learned quickly. Her first kill was mine. Her second, uncertain, hesitant. Her third, sure, swift, and now, as I watch her almost play with her fourth, she is lethal.

The buck is large, powerful. He snorts, breath pluming in the air from flared, damp nostrils. He is furious and enraged and stunningly powerful.

He is no match for her.

She uses my actions with the mountain lion, mimicking them near perfectly, embellishing easily when she needs to compensate for its larger size.

When she's finished, she rests her head against his neck. I see her lips move, hear the barely spoken thank you she utters so softly. It's been the same each time. A reverent moment where she humbles me by thanking the creature that will sustain her in the coming weeks, something I've not even seen Carlisle do in all his infinite compassion.

She stands, clothing stained and torn. Blood paints her sweet mouth and as she wipes it away it smears her white skin. A scarlet slash across a creamy cheekbone.

I ache.

I want.

I need her with a ferocity that is stunning.

Somehow I control it. Stooping, I crack through a crust of ice and scoop a handful of water from the ravine, holding it out to her. She dips her fingers into it, brushes it over her lips, then mine.

She is panting. Her eyes, still red but slowly becoming tinged with amber and ochre and gold, are filled with something heated and I allow myself to fully breathe. To drag her scent, her new yet same scent, deep inside my nose.

My growl is not restrained as I catch the smell of her desire in my throat and lungs and hold it there, waiting, waiting...

She must make the first move.

Do you want to hunt some more?" The words are gruff, straining from my throat because I don't want to feed her. I want to touch her. Drag her down to the snow and ice and taste every inch of this new Bella. This indestructible, incredible creature. I pleased her before, but it's nothing in comparison to what I could give her now. The ways I can and will love her are endless...

"I only want you," she utters with an exhaled breath before she launches herself at me and takes us both down to the ground. Her strength is thrilling and I allow her to push us into the bank of the ravine, ice cracking, crackling, at our feet, the water gurgling up at our ankles as she kisses me, hard.

"Careful, love," I caution gently as her hands clamp down around my arms so tightly I feel the pressure bloom into pain. Exquisite pain that makes me instantly hard, for her, for this. She begins to pull away, apology in her expression but I quickly roll us both until I am on top of her, her body arching into mine despite her worry.

"Hush," I tell her, though she hasn't yet said a word. "I'm fine." Then I lower my head and kiss her the way I've always wanted. Lips finding lips, opening hungrily, tongues seeking tongues, stroking deeply. No restraint, no care, just passion and taste and need. Her flavour fills my mouth, sweet and heady and tinged with blood from her feeding.

Her breath exhales in pants as I break the kiss to tear away her clothes. Fabric shredding under my greedy hands, under hers as well as she tears at mine. Just as desperate.

The snow beneath us compacts. My feet scrabble for purchase and break through the remaining layer of ice, finding the shallow water's bottom of rocks and gravel and fine silt-like sand, digging in and pushing upwards to anchor us to the bank.

Bella moans, then growls as I shred her panties and press my hand hard between her legs, cupping her, opening her with a firm possessive touch, sliding through her silky flesh.

"Wet, God, you're so wet for me." I snarl and drop my head, needing her taste, her singular sweetness in my mouth, all down my throat.

No more need for care. No secretive searching through her soft, intimate flesh for abrasions. Just this. Just us. My mouth on her, my tongue on her, in her.

Yes. God. In her.

My hands holding her thighs down, hard; no fears of bruising her, my teeth nipping as I draw my tongue upwards and circle her sweet clit firmly.

She screams. Thrashes. It's all I can do to hold her and it excites me. My equal, fragile no more mate who takes her pleasure from me as if it is her due. And it is.

I drive up, push her legs higher and lick the scar on her neck. Scrape it with my teeth and pinch it hard between them, thrusting into her heat before she's even done coming from my mouth.

It's hard. Violent and animalistic. Every restraint gone and she arches, pushing as we strain together.

Snow slides around us as I drive my feet deeper into the ground so that I can thrust into her harder and harder still.

We've pounded our bodies past the snow, down into the mud and earth. Water from the ravine rushes up into the indentation, rippling and splashing around us.

Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me tightly to her, dragging me down to pant in my mouth, her pleas for more so sweet, so incredibly hot. I can't get close enough, deep enough. My hands roam her body as her fingernails bite into my back. Perfect little explosions of erotic pain as she scrapes them down my skin, digs them into my ass.

Her teeth bite into my shoulder and it sends me over the edge, knowing only sensation. Her, tight around me, velvet, wet warmth as I'm annihilated with a climax so strong it makes me roar.

"You feel so good," I snarl, not stopping, gripping her hands and pressing them into the mud and water and swirling snow and ice, pressing deeper into her as her eyes go black. "Come for me, now."

She arches hard, her back bowing out of the water, skin cleaving to mine while she screams her pleasure, coming around me.

We don't have to stop.

I pull her upwards and she moves fluidly, rising from the water and mud to push me back, rise above me, move over me.

Water spills from her drenched hair, rolling down her beautiful body in rivulets. Streaming over her breasts and off the tight points of her nipples, down her stomach and over the hips I hold and raise and lower and raise...

We don't have to stop...

. . . . . .

Much later, I wrap her in what's left of our clothing and we make our way home. Warm light spills from the windows of the small, former caretaker's cottage and I lead her there. Inside the bed is dressed in fresh linens, turned down while a fire burns low in the fireplace.

"Alice?" Bella questions softly.

"Esme," I reply, smiling at her surprised look. "I asked her to. I thought perhaps you might like a little privacy for awhile."

She smiles gently and gratefully, shy in this new thing between us, in what we just shared. I lead her to the shower and wash the last traces of mud from our skin and then lead her to the bed. I mean to show her that it doesn't always have to be rough, that there is still plenty of room for tenderness, for making love slowly, so slowly, for hours upon hours. No longer a need for sleep, for rest or for a second to catch her breath.

We don't have to stop...

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

The days and weeks pass and I've gotten better at hunting. Better at controlling my strength. I haven't broken anything recently anyway.

I close the laptop on my desk carefully. It's my fourth one and I'm determined there will not be a fifth. Charlie's email still has me smiling. He's tight-lipped about his new relationship with the Station's pretty dispatcher, Karen, on the phone, but apparently loses some of that over emails. He's sent me pictures of them fishing while on vacation and he looks good. Strong, healthy, happy. He's smiling in every one and there is a light in his eyes I haven't seen before.

It's complicated of course. Karen believes I'm dead and Charlie is forced to keep up the charade, sneaking in a few random calls but mostly communicating with me via emails on a secret account. We have to be vague, we cannot use names, but it is better than no communication at all.

Standing up, I carefully push in the chair, moderating my touch and the grip of my fingers, and breathing a small sigh of relief when it remains intact. Edward assures me that soon I won't have to think about all of this. That it will simply become second nature. Provided that is that I don't fall in love with a fragile human.

I smile thinking about him making that comment. Apparently it had gotten easier for him to touch me as a human, despite his joking, or I wouldn't be here now.

I go in search of him, needing his arms around me, and find him talking with Carlisle. They look up as I come in the room, the frown on my face giving away that I've heard their conversation.

"Eleazar is coming here?" I can't quite keep the incredulity out of my voice. I'd heard the story about how Edward had attacked him while I'd been in my frozen state. Emmett had loved telling me. We'd all laughed a little in the re-telling but it was obvious even then that it wouldn't have been humorous in the moment.

"Carlisle has asked him to come and he's agreed," Edward answers.

"Why?" Turning to Carlisle I gape at him. "How can that even be a good idea considering what happened?"

"I'm not going to attack him again, Bella." Edward smirks a little. "Not that he didn't deserve it the first time, but that was a volatile situation, and all of us, him included, were under an extreme amount of pressure."

"What kind of pressure was he under?" I snort a bit, not inclined to be all that forgiving to someone who was so quick to write me off, or to be so heartless as to suggest it within earshot of Edward.

"Eleazar is not heartless, Bella," Carlisle responds as though he'd heard my thoughts. "He spoke without thinking and without full understanding of the situation and what you and Edward have been through. You must understand; it is difficult for our kind, especially one like Eleazar, who even choosing not to kill humans any longer, still lives very much separate from them. He...struggled to understand your bond to one another and was doubtful of a true connection or that you could be truly mated. We've spoken in depth since and he wishes to apologize to both you and Edward."

"And he needs to come here to do that?" I ask, frowning as Carlisle and Edward look at one another, something passing between them. Not thoughts. I still haven't figured out how to remove my shield from Edward's mind. In truth, I haven't tried very hard. There always seems to be so many more interesting things for us to do...

"There's more to it. What aren't you telling me?"

Edward nods to Carlisle who takes a seat at his desk and leans back in his chair. "We've asked him to come and help you, Bella." His expression is a calm mask that gives nothing away.

"Help me?"

"Yes. We think he may be able to help you learn to control your shield."

If it was still possible, I'd probably blush. I've been so caught up in Edward and in hunting that I'd mostly ignored my shield. Any attempts at learning to control it had been half-hearted at best. My temper could erupt based on nothing more than being frustrated at opening a door without destroying it, and on more than one occasion that had manifested in physical displays of my shield. Unfortunately those could be more destructive than simply forgetting to touch things carefully. Not only to objects but to anyone standing too close. I tended to pin anyone in the immediate vicinity to walls or knock them off their feet. On more than one occasion, I'd blocked off areas of the Lodge making them inaccessible to others. I'd separated Carlisle and Esme for nearly a day with just such a moment. They'd been patient and understanding as I'd strived for hours to put the wall down, but it wasn't something I wanted to repeat.

Worse yet, I also continued to mentally shield Edward completely, and everyone else sporadically and without warning. Not being able to see drove Alice to be a nervous wreck, which didn't sit well with Jasper.

I sit down and Edward sits beside me, taking my hand. "Hey," he says quietly, prompting me to look up at him. "No pressure, okay. If you're not ready, just say so."

"No. It's okay. You're right. You're both right. I need to try and get more control." I offer Edward a smile that I hope is more confident than what I feel.

. . . . . .

Eleazar is...different. A gentleman with a shrewd mind and kind demeanour, and a total arrogant ass all at the same time. Over the past week he has pushed me in ways I didn't expect, using tactics that aren't always nice or fair. In his defence, I've been a difficult student. Not intentionally, but I just can't seem to grasp how to control this. What limited ability I had over it just before my change seems to be nearly gone. Burnt up in the change and the fiery burn that had razed me. I have trouble concentrating...

"Bella, you're trying my patience today," Eleazar snaps, both literally and figuratively. His fingers snap in front of my face as his voice snaps rudely in my ear. "Focus." He stalks back to the couch and sits on the arm, crossing his legs and pinching a perfect pleat in his designer pants. He points at Esme. "I want you to shield her physically, while at the same time, shield Carlisle mentally.

Everyone is gathered in the great room, where there is the most space. As per usual, I feel like a freak show on display but I grit my teeth and look towards Carlisle and Esme where they stand near the fireplace. I can smell the cold ash in the grate amongst a dozen other things. I try to concentrate and push all that aside.

It's easy enough to shield Esme. I simply envision the walls of the corridor spinning out from my mind and wrapping around her. It's quick and efficient, and she's instantly penned in. Unable to move forward more than the step or two of room I've left between her and the transparent walls that only I can see.

Turning to Carlisle, I do the same, only focusing on his mind and not his body. Alice bounces and Jasper nods, letting me know I've succeeded. However, as soon as I see their confirming reactions, the shield slips away. I can't hold it.

"Damn it all to hell," I mutter under my breath, exhaling unnecessarily and harshly. "I can't do this, Eleazar. It's ruined. I need the doors and there are no doors." I just barely resist stamping my foot like a toddler having a temper tantrum. A very dangerous toddler. It wouldn't be the first time I've stomped or pushed or banged something straight to dust and mere fragments of its previous condition. Walls, doors, floors, mantles, cupboards...

Edward rubs my back and Eleazar snarls, rising to his feet again. "If you want doors, envision doors. You're over contemplating everything. The corridor is just your imaginary manifestation. It's not real."

We've had this conversation so many times I want to scream and nearly do. "You keep saying that but like it or not, that's what I know and it's what I need. Doors. I can't change it just because you think you're right." I remind him, loudly, my patience gone, my frustration at its peak.

"Well of course not," he cuts me off contemptuously, gesturing to Edward with a wave of his hand and an accusatory look. "Because you're spoiled. By everyone in this house but none worse than your husband."

I feel Edward draw up beside me, a low growl in his throat which Eleazar ignores.

"Really, why am I surprised that this isn't working?" he continues, shaking his head. "Edward, you've endlessly coddled her. She's placing you all in danger and you don't even hold her accountable."

"What?" I turn to Edward, trying to read his expression which is impossible. He's giving nothing away.

"Really Eleazar?" He asks with a mild smirk that doesn't match his stiff shoulders. "More head games? I think you've gone as far as you can with tricking her into reactions, don't you."

Eleazar snorts. "I'm not tricking her. I'm telling her what you will not." He looks at me and cocks his head. "You do understand that there is a huge danger that Aro will make a sudden decision to send someone to check in on you? He is endlessly fascinated by new vampires and any abilities they might have. You've already intrigued him in your human form. Do you expect him to forget that? He could have spies around us right now, watching. Or he could simply just summon you, all of you, to come to him at moment's notice."

He strides forward, an imposing vampire even with his flashing golden gaze that marks him a vegetarian.

"Enough," Edward snaps, pushing me slightly behind him. I dart back out and stare down Eleazar.

"I do know that. I'm not so stupid as to forget it, either."

He smiles, but its condescending. "If you know it then you should also know that your greatest defences and warnings are being directly hindered by the talent you can't seem to get control of. Every time you shield Alice, she cannot see the future. Who knows what she's missing in those voids you throw her in. If you block Carlisle and Aro makes a decision to see his old friend, she could miss it entirely."

"Not true," Alice offers from her perch on the loveseat beside Jasper. "A decision like that will affect all of us, so I'd see it some other way or..."

Eleazar glares at her. "That's all conjecture. You can't know that. Aro is fickle, his decisions are often spontaneous and without clear indication of his true goals. You could miss it." He turns again to Edward. "And you," he declares with more volume than necessary. "You can't read a single mind. If Aro showed up on this doorstep today, would you know his intentions?"

Edward flinches a little at this and I draw in a sharp breath. Edward does coddle me. To the point that not once has he shown any anger or impatience with my shielding him even though I have blocked his gift and he has to at times be frustrated by that. It's a part of who he is. And Eleazar is right about the rest, too. If Alice can't see we have no warning. And if Aro showed up, how on earth would we manage if Edward couldn't hear his thoughts? We'd be blind and deaf.

"For that matter," Eleazar continues, his voice softening though it's no less confrontational. "What do you know of _my_ intentions, Edward?" There is a slight sneer to the way he says Edward's name that instantly has me on alert.

I'm reminded quickly how easily he'd found me expendable only weeks ago. Reminded as well that once he was very loyal to Aro. His talent of finding and understanding new talent, not something easily put aside in my thoughts. I wonder again what's behind his actions, then and even now.

Edward would know, if I wasn't shielding him, he could have read every thought, known each speculation. If not for me.

"Enough," Edward snaps again and the tension in the room becomes palpable. I can feel it rising. Out of the corner of my eye I see everyone shifting, standing, and preparing to intervene. Alarm races through me. Edward is strong, but he'd had the element of surprise on his side last time. Eleazar looks like no one who would allow Edward to have the upper hand a second time.

Edward takes a menacing step forward, eyes turning dark as his patience snaps and just like that the corridor in my mind stretches out, complete with doors. All of them, etched in perfect detail, clearer than ever before. I spin the walls, flip open all the doors then close all but one. Edward's door. Always the door closest to me. How on earth could I have lost it?

Opaque walls become transparent and I spin them out, surrounding the others in the room until we are divided. Us on one side, Eleazar alone on the other. For the first time I realize the walls are not limited. I can replicate and erect as many as I want, shove outwards as many as I want, and I do so now. A new wall that I slam into Eleazar, sending him careening backwards off his feet and down on his ass with a bang that rocks the real walls of the room and cracks the floor.

Edward suddenly and unexpectedly laughs, squeezing my hand and distracting me from my goal which would have been to shove Eleazar up against the nearest wall and squash him into it. "Be careful, love. You don't want to break him or the house." He brushes my hair tenderly away from my face. "I can hear his thoughts quite clearly, Bella. He's only using more of his head games on you. With great success this time apparently."

I can only stare in shock, not sure I understand all of this. Edward turns to Eleazar, grinning. "Careful, you crafty bastard. I warned you already. Her protective instincts are very strong and pushing her too far is liable to do you damage."

Eleazar bounds to his feet fluidly, unharmed. "Remarkable." He reaches out with one hand and tentatively feels the invisible barrier blocking him before looking at me with an expression of awe. "Incredible. I should have tried this earlier." His expression shifts from awe to curiosity. "What do you see, Bella? Is the corridor complete again? Can you see the doors?"

"Yes, but, what... Was that all a...show, a game to trick me?" I glare at him and then at Edward who looks mildly sheepish. A quick glance around the room reveals more of the same.

"We're sorry, Bella," Carlisle says gently. "But we needed to see what would happen if you felt we were at risk. In the past your shield has been at its strongest anytime you felt we needed to be protected. We'd hoped that triggering that instinct might enable you to act without conscious thought. Instinct if you will."

"I don't understand," I tell him. "I've been doing things without conscious thought since I woke up."

"It's simple really," Eleazar intervenes, waving a hand at the wall and drawing back that same hand with a slight wince when it bounces back at him before he focuses on me again. "The change is traumatic for all of us, but for you," his tone softens, understanding in his eyes, "in your weakened emotional and physical state, it was more so than normal. You've been afraid, Bella. And rightly so. Only a few weeks ago your gift was stealing your life, and then it had you locked in a frozen state. But it cannot harm you now. You're strong, perfectly capable of withstanding it, but you must embrace that and let go of your fears. We feared that you would not do this for yourself, but for your coven, for your mate, you would risk anything."

I take a second to absorb that. He's right, I have been afraid though it had been niggling and not something I grasped clearly until now. In my mind I flex the walls, rattle the doors. Everything is solid and yet with one thought I can make it all fluid. Nervously I banish the doors and then quickly make them reappear.

Ah, so they'd been there all along. Just hidden. I feel the shift and pull and it's strong and connected to all parts of me. An extension. Mine. I control it and I will never let it put us in jeopardy. Just that simple. I turn back to Edward and touch his face.

"You can hear thoughts? Everyone's thoughts?"

"All except for one," he answers softly. I see a hint of sadness at the admission and for the first time I wonder if I have the power to let him in my mind. I hope I do, though I can't see it just yet, I think I might...

Eleazar laughs and shakes his head. "My God, Carlisle. Do you know what you have here?"

Carlisle frowns and shakes his head. "She's not a possession, Eleazar."

"No, no. I know that of course. That isn't what I meant. I meant this." He sweeps his hand to indicate all of us. "All of you, together." He tries to take another step forward but is brought up short by the wall I haven't yet drawn back. His eyes snap to mine and he laughs again. "I'm no harm to you or yours, Bella. Take it down now."

I look to Edward for confirmation and he nods gently. I draw the walls back and open all the doors. As soon as the walls are down, Eleazar crosses to me and takes my hand. "I'm sorry, dear heart. Forgive me for the mind games, but it really seemed the only way to make you realize you have the ability to do this, all of this, at will." He shakes his head again, letting go of my hands and surveying all of us.

Edward watches him closely and I see his eyes widen.

"Yes," Eleazar confirms with a matching nod at whatever he'd thought that has Edward looking so surprised. "Surely you saw it, before now, Edward."

"No, she's my mate. That's all I've known."

"Yes, yes, she's that, but so much more." He turns again to Carlisle. "Do you not see my friend? Do you not know what this means?" He frowns and shakes his head. "Dangerous yes, but oh so amazing."

"Care to fill us in?" Jasper speaks for all of us with the exception of Edward.

"He's seeing the connections between us. All of us," Edward offers.

"Connections. That seems like such a laughable word for what I see." Facing Carlisle and Esme, he points to them. "A daughter. The child you thought you could never have. More yours because of her frailty and her humanity that needed such nurture and care." He walks to Alice and touches her shoulder. "The friend," he says softly. "The one thing you ached for, the one thing you never had, probably not even in your human lifetime." He inclines his head to Rose. "The gift of peace of mind. For in her suffering you saw your own and realized fully for the first time that you were not to blame for what happened to you." He moves to Emmett and laughs. "The little sister. Someone to protect and play with." Next he moves to Jasper. "Ah, the teacher. For she has taught you that you can control yourself, that there is a choice and it isn't temporary." He moves finally to Edward. "And of course, the mate, the love you thought you would be forever denied. Your light in the dark."

He shakes his head again. "Before her, you were a powerful coven. With her...? My God. Think of it. She is your missing link." He turns back to Carlisle and Esme. "Compassion and nurture," he says quietly, almost reverently. "Your two gifts combine and they all gravitate to you. Such a tremendous gift." He turns then to Jasper and Rose. "Touch empath, sense empath. You are the balance, the scales that keep things centered." He gestures to Alice and Edward. "Psychic and telepath. Reader of the future, reader of the present. What is to come is prophesied, what is now is not a secret. Intent and plans. You see it all." He glances then from me to Emmett. "Protection and strength," he states. "No loopholes. Brawn and brute force, and now a shield."

His awe is even more evident now and it makes me almost uncomfortable. He raises one hand and touches my cheek. "And as if that is not enough, an enhancer to strengthen you all." His hand falls to my necklace and he lifts it from my skin. "Stronger together, invincible." He traces the infinity symbol. "Ah yes, so much more than just a mate. The missing link. Aro is right to be afraid. Very right. You are now without a doubt a most powerful coven. More powerful than even his."

Edward reaches for me and I go into his arms. The room is quiet as we all absorb what he says.

Finally Emmett clears his throat and then laughs loudly. "Well, damn, Bella. I always knew you were going to be fun to have around."

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

A year passes quickly in our immortal lives. Seth returned and stayed for a time. He wanders, but always seems drawn back to us. We welcome him when he comes and bid him a fond farewell when he leaves. He seems happy and content in his nomadic life. He spends time in a house he bought in the rustic little town of Talkeetna with the money left to him from his Father's life insurance policy, and he spends time as a wolf, running free. I think from time to time he keeps tabs on the wolf that used to be Jacob, but he's retained the knowledge he learned to block me during darker days, so I can never be sure.

Bella learns and eventually passes all tests, including hunters who ventured too close to the Lodge. She'd watched them, her newly golden eyes turning dark, but she made no move towards them. They passed by unharmed and unaware of our presence.

A month after the encounter with the hunters, Bella began venturing more and more into the human world, testing herself. She passed with flying colors but prefers the solidarity of the Lodge. The human world holds little appeal to her now.

Aro finally made his presence known, almost one year to the day of Bella's re-birth. He sends Jane and Felix, bearing belated wedding gifts. The visit is anticlimactic. A fact finding mission only. We lead them to believe that Bella's shield is mental only and they are easily led in their over-confident arrogance. We are no threat to them but we will forever have to be on guard. We accept it. Alice watches closely. I listen closely. Jasper and Rose sense the mood around our visitors, Emmett grins and intimidates Felix. Carlisle and Esme exude peace and goodwill. Bella and I play newlywed oblivious.

Eleazar is right. Together, all of us are stronger. They leave with no clue of what lies beneath.

We know the future is uncertain, but for now, right now, we have found our measure of peace.

. . . . . .

* * *

**A/N Epilogue will be posted in approximately 2 weeks. Thank you to all my readers. You've been amazing with support and reviews and I've been terrible with replies. I apologize. I wish I could say I'll do better but my plate is unbelievably full right now and I think most of you would wish for the timely posting of the epilogue rather than another gushing thank you from me. If you ask a direct question I will do my best to answer, but otherwise please know I read and re-read, value and treasure, every comment you leave me. They are the reason I share what I write, good or bad, so please don't take my sudden silence as apathy.**

**Also, I have signed up as a contributing author for the Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness fundraiser. Given that sexual assault and its devastating effects is central to the storyline of FBR, I've decided that my contribution will be a newly written outtake. I have a few ideas and in the coming days I will be adding a poll to my profile page where anyone with interest can come and vote for there choice of what that outtake will be****. ****Please consider making a donation to this very worthwhile cause that is near and dear to my heart. ****Even a small one will get you a package of one-shot fics written by over a hundred writers. ****Education and awareness is the first step to finally ending sexual violence once and for all. Link to the F4SAA website can be found on my profile page.**

**xo**

**Aleea  
**


	56. Chapter 56

**A/N Well, here we are. The last and final chapter of FBR. Writing this story has been an amazing experience, sharing it, even better. Finishing it is a huge accomplishment for me. Over the last two years I have learned a lot about writing and about myself, and I have been blessed with wonderful readers, betas and friends. I could literally devote pages to thanks, but I'd undoubtedly still forget someone, not to mention bore you all to tears. So, I'll limit myself to just a few and hope that in my many replies, PM's, emails etc. I have conveyed how grateful I am to have had so many incredible people share this story with me. I've said it before, and I'll keep saying it. I have, bar none, the best readers in the fandom. xo**

**Special thanks to - **

**SydneyAlice and Octoberland. 2 talented fanfiction writers who acted as betas, at different times and played a huge part in this story from grammar help to editing, and so far beyond. I learned so much from each of you. **

**solareclipses, an incredible writer who beta'd this monstrous epilogue, pre-read for me on several occasions and talked me off ledges. I heart you hard, girl and I'm so proud to post this chapter with your name attached.**

**Cella72, my Alice, my internet bestie, partner in crime, girl crush, cheerleader, dear diary, giggle buddy and idee fixe twin, lol. You are the best part of my Twilight experience/obsession, Cel and I adore you! Thanks for holding my hand through more things than I can count and for all your help with..._everything_. xo And LOOK. I DID IT! Lol. ;-)**

* * *

**~ I've decided that my donation to the Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness cause will be a new outtake from FBR. If you go to my profile page, you'll find a poll with several choices of what that outtake could be. Your help in making the decision would be much appreciated. Please consider donating to F4SAA (link is also on my profile page). Education is key in ending sexual violence and many talented writers have signed up to donate, which means a whole lot of fics to read for your generosity. :)**

* * *

**Falling Beyond Redemption **

**Epilogue**

. . . . . .

Seattle Washington 11/25/2036

**Edward's POV**

There is no such thing as happily ever after. No gentle walk into the sunset, into the arms of a strifeless destiny. I should know, living as I have for over a century. I have witnessed wars and the darkest deeds of humanity and supernatural alike, just as I have witnessed moments of greatness and times of perfect peace. I have seen things crumble, and I have watched them be rebuilt, sometimes stronger than before.

Bella is the most perfect example of that. She has walked out of the ashes of devastation, scarred and shaken, her very foundations of trust and belief in others and in herself torn down and made a mockery of. She has been stripped bare of all she thought was true in her world and been reborn in a wash of blood and hurt, fire and ice, to stand before me now as someone new and infinitely stronger.

A phoenix in every sense of the term.

Her strength these last thirty years has been my governing force. She is beautiful and fierce, ruthless and tender, wickedly strong and compassionately gentle. I have watched her use her shield to save an elderly man from a driver who did not heed a crosswalk's flashing warning sign. I've seen her use it again to incapacitate and then destroy a rogue vampire with an appetite for young boys. We'd crossed paths with him in the woods of Glengarry, Scotland, where his latest victim's blood stained his lips and shirt in guilty crimson. Together with Rose, she has opened and funded safe-houses in several continents for women who have known violence at the hands of men. Together with Esme and Carlisle, she hopes to open a clinic for homeopathic diagnosis and remedies; the degree she's pursuing in holistic medicine is something she can't wait to hang on a wall and put to practical use.

Three nights ago I watched her make a frat boy piss his pants in instinctive terror when she pulled him away from the under-aged drunken girl he was attempting to seduce. She pushed him against a wall and held him by his throat, her voice a hiss as she told him in no uncertain terms that she would happily rip his throat out if he didn't see the girl safely, and with a gentleman's intent, to her home.

Two nights ago I watched her hold the hand of a lost little girl and comfort her while I used my telepathy to search for the child's parent. She purchased the child a stuffed toy and a drink and held her in her lap, singing softly to her and teaching her a rhyming game until I could lead the mother to them. When the weeping woman expressed her gratitude, Bella merely smiled and kissed the child's fingertips with a smile and a wink, and acted as though it was an everyday occurrence for a vampire to do such a thing.

And tonight? Tonight I will watch her now silent heart, break.

I move behind her to wrap my arms around her waist and allow her to lean back against me. She turns her face to my neck, pressing her forehead to my throat with a soft hitching sigh.

"I love you, Bella." Small comfort, but I feel her lips turn up against my skin in a tremulous attempt of a smile.

"I know," she answers.

Behind us, I hear Alice enter the house, her high-heeled steps ringing against the tile floor of the hall that leads to the living room. Her mind tells me why she's come, but her gift of foresight isn't necessary. Bella and I have known that Charlie will not make it through this night. When dawn broke over the horizon, we'd heard the tell-tale sound of his heart failing.

The oxygen tank hisses, but it's for comfort only. No respirator to breathe for him, no heroic last measures to save his life. It's what he's asked for and we are bound to grant his wishes, no matter how painful.

Alice stops beside us, her hand touching Bella's arm.

"How much longer?" Bella asks, her voice lowered for our ears only, though Charlie is currently sleeping. He's been in and out all day, sometimes aware and sometimes only dozing, while other times slipping down into moments of pure unconsciousness. Back up, in and out. Aware and unaware. Present in the now, drifting back to the past.

"An hour," Alice answers with gentle finality. "He'll wake again soon. When he says he's tired, Edward will help him to bed. He won't suffer. He'll simply fall asleep and slip away, just as he wants, Bella."

Bella inhales sharply. I feel her chest and lungs expand outward. She doesn't breathe out for a long moment. I rock her gently and murmur softly to her – nothing words, sounds of comfort with no meaning. She exhales slowly and nods against my neck.

"Okay then. Okay." She pulls away and I let her go. I watch helplessly as she straightens her spine, pushes her hair behind her ears. "Do the others know?" she asks, her tone strengthening as well.

"Yes," Alice replies. "They're on their way. Emmett and Rose should be here any minute. Their flight was delayed, but Esme met them at baggage, and they're in the car only a few blocks away now. Jasper is just outside."

Carlisle, of course, is already here. I can hear his thoughts in the kitchen as he putters aimlessly, washing a dish, wiping a counter that's already clean, his mind full of things he could have done if Charlie would have agreed. Heart damage and the onset of severe congestive heart failure don't have to be a death sentence in this day and age of successful transplants. Carlisle could and would have found a way to put Charlie's name on the top of a list, regardless of age and other health ailments, but Charlie would have none of it.

"I've lived a decently long life, Carlisle. I appreciate what you want to do, but we both know between the blood pressure and the age, I'm not making it on that list legally. I won't be responsible for taking a heart from someone else." He'd clapped his hand over Carlisle's shoulder, as though to comfort him. "I've made my peace with this being my last few months. I've got some good weeks ahead of me yet; let me live them without wires and tubes and hospital beds, okay?"

There was nothing we could say. Nothing we could do. Bella tried at first, but Charlie finally fixed her with a hard look and told her, "Enough, Bells. I've respected decisions you've made, no matter how hard they were for me. Time for you to do the same and respect mine." And there was nothing she could say to that. Nothing she could do, save accept the inevitable.

We moved to Seattle, and he surprised us by agreeing to come and live with us there. We'd been searching for ways to make it work so that we could stay with him in his home, even if it meant staying in and never leaving the house. Charlie would not die alone; I'd promised Bella that. I would have found a way. Instead, he seemed to barely think about it when we asked. He simply sighed, looked around the home he'd lived in all his adult life, and nodded once.

A week later, we'd packed a few small boxes of things he wanted to take with him and left Forks, stopping only once at the town cemetery to let Charlie place flowers on Karen's grave. She passed away eight years ago from breast cancer. Her headstone reads beloved wife. Charlie had made an honest woman out of her six months before she succumbed to her disease. She never knew about us, but their wedding photo sits in a place of prominence, wherever we live.

We tried to make Charlie's last days good. I hope we succeeded. He is a simple man. He wanted little and asked for less. I've never been more grateful for my gift. It allowed us to see to his every need and desire, despite his reticence. It also allowed me to comfort Bella the only way I could – by assuring her he was comfortable, and more importantly perhaps, letting her know that I knew he was content and unafraid of death.

Not that I needed to read his mind to know that. He told me outright once, while we walked along the waterfront during one of his good days. We'd bought a large, beautiful home so that Charlie would be near the water he loved so much, and it provided a peaceful place to walk and talk, uninterrupted by others. He told me then, that death wasn't something he feared.

"I remember nearly dying," he'd said, lowering his voice, his thoughts showing me that he didn't want Bella to hear this tale. "When Jacob shot me." His quick glance at me was speculative, as though wanting to check to make sure he didn't upset me with the name. I'd kept my expression open and devoid of anything but sincere interest, and he'd continued after clearing his throat. "It wasn't a bad thing. It was like a choice at the time, stay or go, and a big part of me wanted to go. I think I might have if it wasn't for Billy telling me I needed to stay for Bella." He'd shrugged then, more uncomfortable talking about the friend he'd made a somewhat reluctant peace with after learning of the shaman's involvement in saving Bella during her change. They'd never regained what was lost, but at least the past had been put to bed between them. From time to time they'd spoken when they'd met up in town, cordial but reserved.

He was quiet for a while as we walked, but continued once he sat on a bench to catch his breath. "I think that even though there won't be a choice this time to stay or go, that it'll still be the same. Like going home. That's what it was like." He'd nodded more to himself than to me and smiled. A singular smile of such rugged beauty I'd longed for a camera to capture it. He'd looked extraordinarily peaceful.

Later, I'd picked up paper and a charcoal pencil and drawn what I remembered. I've had it framed and carefully locked away for a day when I can give it to Bella. Once the pain of losing him fades a little, she can appreciate that look on his face and know it for what it was.

In the present, Charlie stirs in his recliner chair and opens his eyes. A game is on the television, and he focuses on it for a moment as I hear Esme arrive with Emmett and Rose. The sounds of the car doors opening join Jasper's quiet greetings and his soft spoken words that let them know what happens now.

Charlie's eyes shift away from the TV and over the room, coming to rest on Bella and me. They narrow a little.

"Getting late, Edward. Don't you think you should be heading home?" He's back in Forks, lost in the time where he hadn't liked me much, and for good reason.

"Dad." Bella begins to go to him, her tone slightly censuring as though she wants to bring him back to the present. I stop her with an arm around her waist.

"It's okay, love," I tell her gently, turning to Charlie with a slight, respectful nod of my head.

"Of course, sir. Thank you for allowing me to visit with Bella this evening."

Charlie grunts, running a hand over his face as I kiss Bella's forehead. "It's only for a moment," I whisper in her ear, "and then he'll remember again."

She looks at me with sadness in her eyes but nods and releases my hand. I watch her make her way to Charlie, adjusting his blanket and murmuring soft questions, asking of his comfort. I make my way outside to greet Emmett and Rose and help them prepare. They've been in France for the last six weeks; they won't be ready for this.

Though in all honesty, I know there is no way that any of us are ready for this, least of all Bella.

. . . . . .

**Bella's POV**

Charlie's hand feels cold. I draw the blanket up higher and wonder if I should get another.

"Got any homework, kid?" he asks. His voice is choked by the fluid in his lungs caused by congestive heart failure. His lips are slightly blue, but it won't be the lack of oxygen that will take him from me tonight. I can hear his heart – the way it struggles and the sluggish, thick, laboured beats that cannot settle into any easy rhythm.

"No, Dad. I did it already."

"Good."

"Thought I would watch a little bit of the game with you, if that's okay?"

"Yeah?" He looks surprised, and I instantly regret all those days I'd left him sitting by himself in front of the television when I could have spent more time with him. "That'd be nice, Bells. Hey, would you grab your old man a can of Vitamin R? I'm a little worn out today for some reason."

Carlisle appears in the doorway with the can and a glass. His eyes like mine are dark and sad as I take it from him, but I can't think about that. There's only room for my own pain right now. Still, it's a comfort when he cups my cheek for a moment; his unspoken, conciliatory thoughts are clear in his face.

I poor the beer for Charlie, listening to his heart, aching because I know it will go quiet soon. It sounds so tired.

"Sorry, Bells." Charlie's hands shake too much to hold the glass, so I help him. He takes only the smallest sip before easing back and grimacing. His expression clears, and I know he's back in the present when Edward returns to the room.

"Hey, Emmett, Rose. I thought you two were off in France somewhere." Charlie greets them as they walk in behind Edward.

"Hey, Pops," Emmett says with a large smile, leaning over to fist bump Charlie who grins happily. Rose leans down as well and kisses Charlie's forehead. His smile softens.

"Hello, beautiful girl."

"Hey now, Pops. What'd I tell you about flirting with my wife?"

Charlie laughs, though the sound is weak and the crackling in his lungs taints the joy I might have found in hearing what most likely is his final laugh.

"If I was just a few years younger, Emmett, I just might be tempted to try to win her away from you."

Rose, her poker face in perfect form, chuckles as she gently pats his hand. "You'd give him a run for his money, you charmer, you."

Emmett tries to laugh, but it sounds hollow. He clears his throat unnecessarily instead and turns his head to the TV. "Who's winning?" The question sounds as hollow as the laugh.

"Not sure. I fell asleep for a bit. They haven't shown the score that I noticed." Charlie frowns a little but then suddenly turns to Edward. "Hey, Edward, we should take the boat out tomorrow. What do you think?" He doesn't seem to notice the light wet snow that patters softly against the large windows or remember that it's November.

Edward smiles. "Of course, Charlie. That sounds like a great idea. The weather is supposed to be perfect for fishing tomorrow."

"Oh yeah? Damn, we'll definitely need to go out then. I haven't caught anything good in a while." He looks up at Emmett. "You should come with us, Emmett." His gaze turns to Carlisle standing quietly by the fireplace and then to Jasper by the door. "You too, Carlisle, Jasper. We'll make it a guy's afternoon out. What do you say?"

"Sounds like a solid plan," Jasper answers, and Carlisle nods, humming some word of agreement. I feel a warm rush of something pleasant buff out the sharp edges of pain that spiked through me with each passing second and these plans that can't come to fruition. My eyes close, and the feeling recedes as I block Jasper from my mind with my shield. Only mine. Whatever comfort he can give to the others they can have, but I will take the pain and hold it close, because as awful as it is, it's all part of this and I won't miss a second of saying good bye. I sit on the arm of Charlie's chair, resting my hand on his shoulder, and somehow find words.

"That sounds like a great plan, Dad. I'll pack you a nice lunch. You can stay out as long as you like." The lie hurts, the fallacy so weak I don't know how he doesn't see through me. Or maybe he does.

Charlie nods and his heart slows, races, slows, races. He winces a little and rubs at his arm. Carlisle drifts casually over, and without Charlie even being aware, applies a morphine patch to the inside of his arm. In seconds I can see some of the tension leave Charlie. With it though, goes some of the light from his eyes, fatigue showing deeply. It grows along with the pallor of his skin until he seems to be shrinking inside of himself.

_Oh, Daddy. Please, don't go. I don't think I can bear this. I don't think I can._

I look up at Edward and he's at my side in an instant, his arm coming around my shoulders so I can lean my face against his chest. Just one moment to breathe him in, to ground myself, before I lift my head and lean over to kiss Charlie's cheek.

"I love you, Dad."

He looks a little surprised and embarrassed, but smiles at me. "Love you, too, kid. A lot." He makes a small hmphf sound and sighs. It's like a knife in my chest when he looks around the room, blinking wearily.

_Don't say you're tired. Don't say it, Charlie. Not yet._

"Well, sorry guys, but I'm failing."

Something inside of me cracks as I nearly jolt in reaction. Only this rock steady vampire body keeps me from physically showing my shock. Does he know?

"I can't seem to keep my eyes open. Think I'm gonna call it a night."

_No, he doesn't know. Oh, God, he doesn't know. What if there is something he wanted to say, or do? Something he's put off? Some final good-bye or peace he needs to make. Do I let him slip away quietly? Is it better if he doesn't know?_

Edward's arm tightens around me, reading my body language the way he still cannot read my mind. "He knows." The words are so quiet only we can hear them and I look up at Edward. His eyes regard me softly, dark with his own sadness. He touches my cheek so gently, as if he's following the tracks of the tears I cannot cry. "It's alright, love. He's peaceful. Let him go."

I struggle. I want to cling, to hold onto him and not let him go, but I know I can't. Charlie has always done things on his own quiet terms; death will be the last of those. I cannot take that away from him.

It's Emmett that helps Charlie up from his chair and into his room that is just off the living room. Edward follows him and I wait while I listen to the sounds of my husband gently readying my dying father for bed. Esme suddenly is there, holding me hard to her and I realize I've sobbed out loud. I pray Charlie didn't hear me and dig down deep for the strength to do this.

I cling to her for a moment and then nod. "I'm okay. Let me go." She does, but not before kissing my cheek and telling me she loves me. One by one they all go in the room and say good-night to Charlie. I listen to them, to the caring and compassion and affection that come from each word they gently speak. When they come out they reach for me and I cling to each of them, taking strength while I can. I watch Edward squeeze Emmett's shoulder hard as the physically strongest of our family nearly folds in on himself, dropping to the sofa, his head falling to his hands.

Jasper holds me the hardest. "I can make this easier for you, darlin'. Let me make this easier." I hug him back hard and gently slip my shield over his mind, blocking the sadness and pain of the others from bombarding him. He cannot make this easier for me, but I can make this easier for him.

I shake my head at him and find the will to give him a small honest smile as he starts to protest my actions. "No, it's okay. I'll be okay. I need to do this, feel this. This is how it works, right? Even if I wasn't this…hadn't chosen this life, I would have had to lose him."

"Take it off, Bella. If you won't let me help you, don't do this for me."

"Let me," I whisper. "I know this hurts enough by itself. You deserve to feel sad for your own sake for a change."

Jasper studies my face and then finally nods. I know he won't admit it but he's grateful. There are times when his gift is a curse. He's spent enough time with Charlie these last few months to feel pain at losing him, too, and that's enough for anyone. His kiss against my forehead is hard and quick and then he lets me go.

I feel like I should be shaking but I don't. I slip quietly into Charlie's room and lay beside him on the bed. Edward stands at the side and Charlie turns his head to me.

"Do you want me to go?" Edward asks near silently.

"No, stay." _Don't leave me. I can't do this alone. _I let my shield enfold him as well so he too can be alone with his grief.

"What's the matter, kiddo?" Charlie asks his voice fading as his eyes cloud over. His heartbeat seems so soft now, struggling, struggling... "Did you have a bad dream?"

He's in the past again, back when I was little and I used to visit and crawl in bed with him in the middle of the night after a nightmare. He raises a shaky hand and brushes my hair away. I take it in mine and clasp it with all the tenderness I've learned.

"I love you, Dad," I tell him one last time.

"It's okay, Bells. You're safe." His eyes close and he breathes out softly. "You're going to be just fine." He says this last part so softly I wouldn't have been able to hear him if I wasn't what I am. I don't know if he speaks to me as a child or me now and I'm glad that I've shielded Edward when I did. Charlie deserves privacy in his last minutes.

He slips into sleep and his eyes almost immediately begin to move behind his eyelids, as though he's dreaming. The crinkles around them seem to soften out, the gray of his moustache looking like polished silver in the darkening room.

His heart thumps, clenches. One tight squeeze, so prolonged before it releases that it seems it won't beat again, but it does. It clenches again, harder this time – trying it seems to find some last bit of residual strength to keep going. As though trying to escape the scar tissue and damage done by the heart attack he'd had following the events in Forks that brought us here, and the several that followed in the last few years since he'd lost Karen. Irreparable heart damage, congestive heart failure. No cure... There is no hope and I stop wishing for his heart to unclench and instead touch his face, one last time.

"You're right, Dad. I'll be fine. I'll miss you, so much, but I'll be fine."

His heart heaves, chatters like teeth in the cold; warm, wet clicking that races way too fast and then just...stops.

I hold his hand – kiss his knuckles that already feel cold, and say good-bye, one last time.

. . . . . .

**Charlie's POV**

_The sun is shining. Lighting up the water, making it sparkle like God dropped diamond slivers out of the sky and they're just floating around on top. I'm alone on my boat. Starcraft Islander ISO 120. She's a beauty. A gift from Bella and Edward. My dream boat. I haven't ever been alone on it before and this is nice. Peaceful. My fishing gear is all set up, ready to go. Bucket full of bait, cooler full of beer, and nothing but time. _

_I think about Karen. I have a feeling she'll be joining me soon. She'll like this new boat—she always was an outdoor girl, after my own heart. Good thing I was smart enough to give it to her. _

_I think about Billy. Maybe it's time to make my final peace. It'd be nice to go fishing with him again, the way we used to._

_Soon, I think. Yeah, real soon. It feels like a good time to let go...of everything._

_I tilt my head up to the sun and lean back in my chair. Going to be a good day, a really good day..._

. . . . . .

Forks, Washington 12/02/2036

**Bella's POV**

Black is the color of funerals. I used to think white was more fitting, but black works. I'm wearing it anyway. Edward at my side is wearing black as well. If nothing else, it helps us blend into the wet backdrop of forest as we stand far from where any prying eyes can see, watching Carlisle and Esme shake hands and accept condolences. They too are dressed in black, and Alice has worked movie magic with their appearances. A touch of gray to their hair, a few carefully added touches of makeup to give the appearance of fine lines around the eyes and mouth. Esme's hair has been styled in a way that makes her gracefully beautiful but ages her ten years at least. They are still flawlessly beautiful but it seems fitting that they would age well, and Alice was careful to not go overboard. They look mature and regal, and they speak warmly of Charlie to his friends, people who believe I'm long since gone and buried. People who believe that Carlisle and Esme were the ones who cared for Charlie solely on their own in his last days. The good doctor and his wife so kind, so generous, bonded with Charlie over the mutual loss of their children.

There is something almost comical about the way no one knows the truth but us now that Charlie is gone. I feel a sudden hysterical urge to laugh, but I tamp it down, aware that to give in would surely crack me in half.

Instead, I watch my half-brother clasp Carlisle's hand in a firm shake and marvel at him, oddly proud. Renee had kept in touch with Charlie after our supposed death, brought him to visit on several occasions. Charlie had taken him fishing and camping, bonded with him. He'd laughed about it over the phone with me during one of our many secret conversations. "Your brother is a good kid. Reminds me of you a little, quiet, keeps to himself." His voice had gone quieter, gruffer. "Your mother seems to think I need a kid in my life. It's hard, knowing she misses you and not being able to tell her... Anyway, guess there's worse things in life than having a twelve-year-old fishing buddy." He'd laughed then and changed the subject, asking about the weather in Scotland.

In 2021, Renee was killed in a car accident coming home from a routine trip to the store to buy groceries. I hadn't been able to watch her funeral. Not then, still too unsure of my strength and the sun of a Floridian sky no friend to me. I had gone and laid flowers at her grave much later with Edward, as always, at my side. I hadn't been able to cry for her, but I'd found out I didn't need tears to mourn. Watching my brother now, moving to stand beside the others, I'm glad he'd gotten to know Charlie. It makes me feel more connected to him somehow.

Issac Anthony Dwyer is tall and handsome. He looks like Phil with a touch of Renee in his eyes and his smile. I've watched him grow from afar, and protected him a time or two from schoolyard bullies and a tainted picnic lunch at an outing that would have made him, and scads of the other sixth graders, violently ill had Alice not seen and warned me. I'd stood in the shadows and watched him graduate high school, university, law school. Watched him marry his high school sweetheart and touched the tiny fingers of his newborn daughter, named after our mother and me, the sister he's never known through anything more than pictures and stories. Isabella Renee Dwyer. My niece; my namesake and Renee's. It seems fitting.

Life goes on in all its different ways, no matter what.

Edward's arm tightens around my waist, and rain begins to fall as Charlie's coffin is lowered into the ground. Unable to watch, I lift my eyes to the sky and watch the drops hit the trees instead, pattering against leaves and limbs, trailing down the trunks like tear tracks.

The sky is crying for me.

"I want to go to the house."

Edward's arm tightens again. His lips brush my temple. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I need..." I don't know what I need. To say a final good-bye? To face the last of my demons? They say you can't go home again, but I need to. I look up at Edward while he uses the backs of his fingers to trace my cheekbone, the move as tender and careful as it had been when I was still human and fragile.

"It's okay," he smiles. "Whatever you want. Whatever you need, Bella. You know that, love."

I nod because I do.

. . . . . .

Charlie's house hasn't changed much. Karen had added her touch here and there. The kitchen was remodelled, and traces of a feminine hand can be found in accessories I don't remember. The furniture is newer, but the bones, the skeleton of this home, are still the same. I can smell Charlie here; feel him, still so strongly. The silence is thick.

I move through the rooms, memories, faded and grainy, flitting through my mind as elusive as dust motes in sunbeams. Human images seem so two-dimensional now that it's hard to fit them into any context.

Standing in the living room, I let the silence enfold me and carry me back. I don't think of Jacob often anymore. Even less so that night, but here with the pain of losing my father so heavy in my chest, it all comes back. Tainted by the drugs that were in my system and the haze of human vision through which I'd witnessed it all, it's still painful, still hard to make sense of. But it no longer has any power over me. I close my eyes, and let the memories play out as they will, grateful that Edward had agreed to give me time alone to do this.

_I smell the blood, hear the window shatter, the gunshot. Hear Jacob's voice, hissing and angry, feel his hands on me..._

It's all disjointed, in no particular order. When I open my eyes it seems so strange to see the room as it is now and not how it was then. No broken windows or furniture. The smell of blood and cordite is only in my mind, fading fast – and then it's gone.

I stand for a very long time in the silence that follows, breathing in the last traces of my father. The afternoon light is dimming, the rain falling harder when I hear it. Hear him.

Jacob.

I'm not surprised, not alarmed. The calmness inside of me tells me that I'd somehow known he would come, that eventually he and I would have to meet, one last time. It seems fitting that it would be here where the ghosts feel the most present. I move from the living room to the front door that I'd left slightly ajar. I can see him there, sitting on the step, his back to me.

_I will never force her to endure the sight of my face._

Well, at least that's one vow unbroken.

I can smell him. The scent doesn't disgust me, as used to Seth as I am, but I do crinkle my nose. It also reminds me of how different I am, now.

It feels so strange to be in this new body. To be this strong, this whole and to think that once I'd been afraid of him.

He doesn't move, doesn't speak. _I will never force her to endure the sight of my face or the sound of my voice. _

Maybe more than one rule will be unbroken. I realize he's waiting for me. To acknowledge him, or maybe even to kill him. I sense instantly that he knows the line he's walking and knows the consequences. His muscles are tight. He's leaner than before, dressed in nothing but cut off shorts and a muscle shirt, wet from the rain.

"Feeling brave today, Jake?" I mean it to sound mocking, but instead it sounds quietly threatening. His shoulders flinch inward, but the action is reflex and I can't smell any fear. He doesn't answer but there is a new tension in the lines of his body, easily readable. "Go ahead, speak. You've already broken the biggest rule, coming near me, what's one more? Or do you think Edward will be more likely to spare your life if you don't talk?"

His head lowers, like he's contemplating. After a long moment it lifts again and his voice when he speaks is gravelly, startling. "I didn't come to upset you." I realize suddenly that some of the damage Edward had done that fateful day in the woods when he'd nearly killed him, is permanent. I can still remember the way Edward's hand had looked around Jacob's neck, the lethal pressure his elegant fingers had exerted, stopping just short of snapping his neck.

"No? That's good. If you had I'm afraid you'd be disappointed. I'm not _that_ girl anymore." Again I'd meant to mock, but the hiss of my voice is still threatening. I feel strong, competent. I truly am not that girl anymore but I feel the ghost of her, hovering nearby.

Jacob's head bows slightly in acknowledgment.

"Why are you here?" I demand again.

He stands; his movements are slow and careful, his back still to me. "I came...I..." He stumbles over his words at first and then the rest follow in a rush. "I came here to tell you that I'm sorry. For what it's worth. I know it isn't really worth anything, but I felt like it was the least you deserve. To hear it straight from me. What I did to you, Be...What I did to you was inexcusable and horrible and I can't take it back, not any of it, but I would if I could. If I thought - _for one second if I thought_ - that the end of my life could give you any kind of peace, I'd offer it to you right now." He shakes his head, droplets of rain sliding from his hair to his shoulders. "I can't undo it," he repeats softly, the pain of this truth taking the gravel of his voice and deepening it. "But I wanted you to hear it from me. I'm sorry. I will forever be sorry."

My chest aches. I can literally feel the emotional scars inside of me throb under the pull of his apology. They'll never go away, I've always known that, but his presence makes them hurt so that I can't tell yet if it helps to hear him say the words, or not.

"Do you expect me to forgive you?"

"No!" His answer is quick and much louder. "No," he repeats, softer this time. "I don't expect what I don't deserve."

"But you want it, don't you?" Finally the mocking tone I'd been striving for comes through.

"No. I don't want that," he says, and I believe him. If he wanted my forgiveness, he would have asked for it. Jacob, for all his faults, has always worn his heart on his sleeve. It doesn't change the fact that this is just as much an attempt to unburden himself as it is to truly apologize.

I glance around me, memories still tugging at my mind, born from every familiar angle. Can I find it in me to forgive him, I wonder? Whether he wants it or not seems irrelevant, but maybe I can forgive him for my own sake, in some limited way. Enough to finally – once and for all – let it all go. I deserve that. If it's possible.

I suddenly want to see his face. I want to look into his eyes.

"Look at me."

Every muscle in his back tenses. "I made a promise. I've already broken enough of it."

"You made a promise?" My laugh is bitter. "You didn't do anything," I remind him. "And Edward isn't here. I am. If you have the balls to be here, the balls to own up to what you did, then have the decency to do it to my face. You owe me that much. Look at me."

I can hear his heart beating thickly in his chest. His hands curl into fists for a moment and then relax as he turns. He keeps his head down but raises it slowly once his body fully faces mine.

He looks the same. Thirty years and he's still as young looking as I am. He seems a little awkward in his body. I wonder how long he spent in only wolf form and if that's the reason he moves the way he does, as though his limbs are all in the wrong position. His eyes, though, those aren't young. They burn from his face, filled with age.

A rush of emotion I don't know what to do with races over me. Regret, longing for the friend I'd lost, and finally acceptance for the things I cannot change but have survived. The possibility of what he could have been to me is still there, buried underneath all the scars, but the pull of him is gone, completely. I no longer feel anything for him, not even anger.

He'd tried to take so much away from me, but in the end, all he'd done was destroy himself.

"I forgive you." There is a flash of surprise in his eyes at my soft words, a flash of sadness so deep it matches my own. His hands curl back into fists.

"You should _hate_ me."

"Do you think I don't?" His eyes meet mine and then he looks away. "I trusted you, believed in you and our friendship, loved you, in my own way. You tore all of that away from me... I still forgive you."

"Don't. I don't deserve that."

"No, you don't, but it's not for you," I cut him off. "I forgive you for me, because I refuse to spend one minute more letting what you did to me taint any part of my life. I forgive you because it means I can move on." I look around one last time, saying my quiet good bye, to my old life, to the sad, insecure, broken girl I'd once been. One last time to the father I will always miss before I look back at Jacob.

His body has healed all his scars with the exception of whatever internal damage has turned his once smooth voice rough, but his eyes show emotional scars. Ones he deserves and some perhaps that he does not.

"I forgive you," I repeat softly, feeling a rush of something akin to freedom come over me with each word. Whatever last ties I had to the events of that night, dissolve. "If that gives you any kind of peace, you're welcome to it." I can see it doesn't, not really. He hasn't forgiven himself, and for a second I could almost pity him.

_Almost_.

I step around him and move down the stairs. Something makes me pause, like I haven't quite said all that needs to be said. I ache to be alone with all of this, to let the peace take hold as I turn the final page in this chapter of my life and leave it all behind.

Without turning to look at him, I say the last words I will ever speak to Jacob Black. "I buried my father today. I'm burying you, and all of this, too. Good bye, Jake."

And then, I walk away.

. . . . . .

**Edward's POV**

I watch Bella leave the house, Jacob Black still standing on Charlie's steps, watching her walk away as well. If I wasn't able to read his thoughts, he'd be dead right now, and a part of me knows Bella needed this. Still, as it is, to stand here and not intervene has taken every ounce of willpower I possess. I hear her soft, very final good bye to him and I want to go to her, hold her. Buffer something of the pain I know she's feeling, kiss her and help her embrace the peace I know is waiting just beneath the surface of her grief with this final letting go. I don't. I can sense her need to be alone and I know where she'll go now. It's the same place I'd intended to go before I'd caught his scent and traced it here.

As she vanishes into the woods, he looks directly to where I am. He's known I've been here the entire time, even downwind as I was careful to be. I watch his shoulder's square and he leaves the steps and makes his way towards me. I move farther back into the woods, deeper into growing shadow, away from any prying eyes.

He follows.

When I stop, he does as well. His expression and thoughts are guarded as he faces me, but I've already read enough of them to know his regrets are real, pitiful as they are.

"I hope her forgiveness gave you some kind of peace. I'd hate to send you to your grave without whatever absolution you were so stupidly seeking." I wait for my words to sink in and for the change to take him in reaction to the threat very present in my words and demeanour. He stays human, his thoughts seem almost resolved to his death.

"I didn't do it for that; you know I didn't."

He's right. I do. At the moment I hate my gift and its ability to so easily read his real remorse for the past. Not that it matters. "Are you suicidal?" I hiss, rage, old and new, tugging at me. "Or just very stupid?"

A small tremor erupts over him but he tamps it down, smothers the urge to change and the anger and dislike he still feels for me, though now it's only instinct and not personal.

"I warned you. I told you..."

"She deserved to know that I'm sorry, that I regret..." He cuts me off, his head tipping back as he growls low in his throat, the sound frustrated and pain-filled rather than threatening. "Don't you get it? I didn't want her to live thinking I wouldn't give my damned life to undo what I did to her. It's all I can give her, and I know it's pathetic and not enough, but it's all I have." He drops his head and shudders, swallows hard. His eyes are wet with unshed tears as he looks at me again. "Now she knows, so do what you have to do."

I'm across the small space, my hand over his throat, lifting him, slamming him into the thick tree trunk behind him. It rattles from root to limbs, showering us in the same rain it had been shielding us from. Memories of the last time I did this are as fresh as the taste of the water that trickles down my face and into my mouth with the hiss I suck through my teeth. He doesn't fight me, only hangs limply from my grasp, watching me. It only enrages me more and I pull him back and slam him forward again.

"You fucking dare to tell me what she deserves?" I roar. Leaning my face close to his, I drop my tone back to a low, venom-soaked decibel. "I gave you your life because she asked me to, but I warned you to stay away from her. I would have let you live your one lifetime before I sought you out to end you, but you broke your vow. I don't care why you did it. She could have lived for eternity without hearing your worthless apology." I slam him into the tree again, wanting him to react, to change. He has forced my hand by showing up here. I am as furious at that as I am at his actions and I want a fight, not this apathetic acceptance. I see a flash of anger and pride but he smothers it again.

"Kill me if you have to. We both know you've only been biding your time anyway, but my blood on your hands won't change anything," he growls, his vocal chords, already damaged, straining against my hand. I can feel the internal ropes of scar tissue from where even his supernatural healing abilities had failed him, vibrate and twist against my fingers. One squeeze and this is over. In his human form he is nearly as weak as one and I could snap his head clean off his neck. I itch all over to do that very thing but I am also bound by _my_ vow. I'd left myself a loop hole by giving him one lifetime. He and I knew it, though I doubt Bella had noticed. Even now I still think she is oblivious to the trickery in my careful wording.

_One lifetime to regret what you've done_.

Nearly as immortal as we are, he could live dozens of lifetimes if he chose to. So long as he kept phasing he would not age. But I'd given him one lifetime. _Only one._ If he'd lived as normal he would be a middle-aged man now, quickly approaching the sentence of death I'd had every intention of carrying through on.

Shaking my head at him in disgust, I repeat his words as a question full of mocking. "It won't change anything?" I lean closer so my breath is in his face, knowing it disgusts him. "Oh, but I think it will. You have no peace from what you did, I don't think you ever will, nor do you deserve to, but she and I deserve it. Your death will guarantee the vows you were unable to keep from breaking. She can't be forced to see your face or hear your voice, if...you...are...dead!"

Furious, my control faltering, I drop him and pace away. Conflicted, I am so damn conflicted. He lands on his knees and curls one hand around his throat, coughing, gagging for a long moment. Finally, he stands back up, his breathing ragged, his voice rougher as he speaks.

"I'm sorry. Not just for what I did to her, but for what I did to both of you."

"Sorry?" I sneer in disbelief. "For what? For nearly taking away my reason to exist? For trying to rape her? For nearly killing her Father? For leaving her so broken physically and mentally I despaired that she would ever be whole?"

"For all of it!" he yells brokenly. He drags a hand through his hair and again only his thoughts that show the truth of his words keep me from tearing him apart.

"For all of it." I move back in front of him, mocking again. "Do you even know, all of it?"

He shakes his head at me, hard. "I know I had no right. I know what I did was every shade of sick and screwed up and I…"

My control snaps again, and I drive him back into the tree, my arm over his chest, pinning him. "I wish you could see in my mind, Jacob Black, like I can see in yours. I wish I could show you all the nights I held her while she cried because _she blamed herself_. All the days I watched her waste away. Do you know she nearly died, not once, but several times? Do you know that every time I pulled her back, I saw your face and promised myself that I would make you pay, eventually? You can't imagine the hell you put her through, put _us_ through with your sick actions. I put her back together, piece by fucking piece and she is whole now." I let him go again and step back. My rage is electric, crackling over me like a live wire. "I brought her here to bury her father, not to face you. Tell me one good reason why I should let you live. Why I shouldn't make you pay for all that you put us through and for breaking the vow you swore you'd keep."

His fists clench and his eyes close and his mind struggles, as though he's trying to keep something from me. He fails. I see the images he can't repress, and as he opens his eyes to look at me again, he quits trying.

I see a woman: dark hair, dark eyes, laughing as she cradles a hand, his hand, over her swelling stomach.

Jacob Black has found his imprint and she is with child.

"She's the reason why," he tells me quietly. "Whatever I deserve, she doesn't. I'll ask for my life for her sake, not my own, because I damn well know I don't deserve any kind of mercy from you."

His thoughts continue to unfold, showing me their meeting, an accidental encounter in the woods while she was hiking and he, in his wolf form, was hunting. He'd imprinted instantly, as his kind does, but he'd denied himself her. For years he'd watched her, denying his need to be with her, thinking himself unworthy of any kind of happiness, fearful even that he would hurt her if the demons that had allowed him to hurt Bella reared their heads again. But there was no denying a connection like that. She'd needed him as much as he'd needed her and eventually, he had no choice but to come out of his wolf form and take her as his own.

"She knows everything. What I did, what I am, what I'm capable of. She loves me, anyway. I tried to send her away. I tried… She wouldn't let go and I…I had to try to find a way to live with what I did and still be something decent for her and for the baby she's carrying." He drags in air and then exhales. He's terrified. Not for himself but for her. He wonders, now that I know, what will I do?

"Do you think I'd hurt an innocent?"

"No," he answers quickly. Too quickly, and his doubts spin out of his head into mine. He could have stayed away, could have kept his imprint a secret, at least until the day came that I would have sought him out to make good on my promise. Instead, he'd come here knowing he'd have to face me, knowing that this could be his end. Something of the old Jacob has returned. Who he was before that night. The one who'd loved Bella with a pure heart before it had all gone to hell. He wants a second chance to be what he wasn't for Bella. Someone strong, trustworthy, worthy of love and just as capable of giving it without strings or demands or force.

I hate him for making me see that. I hate him for being capable of a selfless sacrifice.

I hate him more for finding any kind of happiness.

He deserves none in my eyes.

My lips curl back and it takes effort to spit the words out. I can see why he would be afraid. Hurting her would be the perfect revenge. The only real revenge. Pity the idea is so abhorrent to me. "She is safe from me. I don't hurt those who do not deserve it."

His shoulders relax slightly. Silence descends, only the soft pattering of rain and the still harsh rasp of his breathing breaks it as I try to control my emotions.

I have been angry for so long. Biding my time, waiting for the day when I could end his life. It seemed as long as he lived, I could find no peace. I still have no peace and it looks as though I won't get any this day either.

"You can kill me, but it won't change anything," he repeats.

"If it was her, your imprint, would you let the person who hurt her live?" I ask quietly, lethally. His answer comes without hesitation.

"No."

His answer is quick, unvarnished and without buts or exceptions or excuses. I'm surprised. "And yet you ask me for your life?"

"Yes. But not for me, for her, for the baby." There are tears in his eyes and they spill over silently as he leans back against the tree, his arms dangling over his bent knees, head bowed, not absolved and yet still somehow resolved to whatever I choose. "Give me a chance, Edward," he entreats quietly. "Let me redeem myself by being everything I wasn't for…" he falters, then thinks of Bella's image instead of saying her name. Even that galls me, but at least he has the decency to think of her now instead of the way he must still see her in his mind. Human, fragile, the girl he knew and not my wife, my mate. He drops his head, drops all pretence of keeping his vow and looks at me again, not trying to hide the pain in his eyes or the truths from his mind. "Give me a chance to be for my imprint what I never was for Bella."

I feel my lips curl back with a snarl, but my resolve is weakening. He doesn't deserve redemption in my eyes, but then couldn't the same be said of me? I am even less innocent than he is with all the blood that stains my hands. I know only one thing; his imprint and his unborn child are innocent. My hands are tied.

I find myself thinking of Bella's niece, her namesake. The weight of the tiny infant in my arms is still a tactile sensation from the few stolen moments that Bella and I had shared sneaking into a hospital nursery to see her, hold her. I remember the longing, the sharp spike of regret I'd felt while watching Bella hold her that there would never be a child for us. The longing that had turned to acceptance when Bella had looked up at me and whispered words that Esme had once whispered to her.

"Life goes on." Her smile had been tremulous but so beautiful, peaceful.

It did indeed go on and I realize now that Bella has moved forward where I have not. I was still lost in my rage, in my need for revenge. I feel it like a solid beam across my shoulders. The ball of ice that had once churned in my stomach is still there and churns anew.

She'd once asked me for Jacob's life, not to spare him but to spare me the weight of his death on my conscience. Once I'd thought it was a weight I'd gladly bear. What was one more in the midst of a multitude of others?

Yet, as I stand here now, knowing his life is in my hands, I can feel myself thawing. He doesn't beg. He sits silently, waiting my judgement, and suddenly I find it isn't a judgement I want to give. Not now, not under this weight of entanglement that comes from the life he has now.

We've come full circle but I am not who I once was. Neither is he.

I think of Bella. I know she's waiting for me in our meadow.

"I will let you live, Jacob Black, for the sake of your mate, but more importantly for the sake of mine. Bella has forgiven you and she's moved on, found happiness in her life with me. I won't take away her choice in things the way you once tried to do."

His body relaxes minutely in gratitude and he gets to his feet. We stare at one another for a long moment, silent understanding between us.

"All vows and bets are off from this point forward," I warn him softly, lethally. "Bella has forgiven you, but it isn't in my nature or heart to do the same and I won't ever forget. Don't let our paths cross again, Jacob Black." I step backwards, gliding deeper into the woods away from him, pinning him with my stare, knowing my eyes are black with my emotions. "One lifetime," I remind him, smiling darkly as he blanches. "It's your choice how long that lifetime lasts."

And then, I walk away.

. . . . . .

I find her, as I knew I would, waiting for me in our meadow. So much has changed and yet this place remains the same. She senses my approach and turns to me, smiling softly, her hair wet from the rain, so beautiful it hurts.

I hold my arms out to her and she comes, sliding into them easily, perfectly. I kiss her brow, her nose, her cheek and then finally her mouth until she sighs, drawing back. With one hand she touches my cheek.

"I have something for you," she says sweetly, her eyes alight. She closes them and suddenly without warning my mind is inundated with images from our wedding. Images of me, of her, of us, saying our vows. Images from _her_ mind and _her_ memories, fuzzy with her human vision, and yet perfect because of that very thing.

"Bella..." Since her change she has never opened her mind to me. I'd long since accepted that her silent thoughts would always be secret to me. In the early days and months after her change she'd tried and I'd gently encouraged her, but always to no end save our mutual frustration when it never worked. Carlisle and I had hypothesized that her shield was such an integral part of her that it simply couldn't be lifted to leave her exposed, not even for me.

"Shh," she hushes me, her brow furrowing with concentration as more images and moments are shared. She shows me her memories from the first time we'd met. It's painful and bittersweet to see the anger and violence in my eyes from that day but it's also tinged with her infatuation and I'm enthralled anew at her lack of fear and her wonder. Her desire, her curiosity. I see the days of our burgeoning love, our first trip to the meadow, her understanding and acceptance of what I am. I see it all and I'm humbled that I ever doubted her.

The images change, race ahead to the first time we'd made love, tender and beautiful, even in the rawness of those pain-filled days. The rapture she'd felt, my own rapture mirrored in her gaze. The first time we'd hunted and those moments in the woods after when we'd made love as equals for the first time, animalistic, hungry.

I want to see it all but the need to kiss her, touch her, ignite the fire and heat of our connection, overwhelms me and my actions break her tenuous hold that is allowing her to lift the veil. The second I taste the sweetness of her lips, the images shut off, but I can't bring myself to care.

Instead, I tumble her down to the wet fragrant grass and lose myself in making a new memory...

Later, much later, when the last of the afternoon is gone and night is encroaching, I take her hand and we both look around, one last time over the place it all began.

No, there is no such thing as happily ever after. Not for any of us. We are all flawed and we all carry darkness inside. We can all fall beyond redemption, and we can all rise above. And if we're lucky, really lucky, we can have a measure of peace and happiness and a love that conquers all else. We can hold it close and treasure it as it is meant to be treasured. We can heal and move forward from the sins and trials of our past lives, stronger and something more than we were. If it is our choice, if it is our will, if we are not alone.

Our fairytale is flawed and bittersweet and richer in layers and love for it. We do not have perfect forgiveness or resolution or any easy answers to the questions we never meant to ask. Our dragons are not all slain and we will never ride on white horses into a perfect sunset. And yet, as I stand with her and look out over the place I'd first given her my heart, I realize our fairytale may not be perfect, but it is also far from over.

I squeeze her hand, our fingers linked tightly as we turn away and begin to run in the rain and the growing dark, away from the past and into the future – come what may.

Together...

. . . . . .

The End.

* * *

**A/N I know there are those of you who won't like certain parts of this ending. Especially concerning Jacob. FBR is not about perfect answers or fairytale HEA's. It's about healing the best any of us can, and living with our scars. **

**I wrote this for all us who have survived. We will never be the same, but we are stronger for it.  
**

**One last time, to all of you reading, thank you.**

**Aleea  
**


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